


Crown

by sassysmith19 (sassysas19119)



Series: Regal [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-07-29 15:59:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 92,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16267544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassysas19119/pseuds/sassysmith19
Summary: “It was duty that brought me here.”Behind them, the inferno burned on, swallowing anything and everything in its path. Before them, a sheer wall of ice rose from the ground and vanished into the clouds.The gods had given them their gifts to protect the people. Ironic, wasn’t it, that the gifts would be the thing to tear down the world?The fire was getting closer.“It was duty that led me to your side, but it is because I love you that I remain.”





	1. Chapter 1

“Luhan?”

He looked up slowly, to find his mother standing in the doorway of his bedroom. “Mother.” She crossed the room quickly, came to stand beside him, her gaze following his out the window, across the mountains. “Regretting your decision to sell your son off?” That didn’t garner a response, but he hadn’t expected it to. His mother had heard everything that he had to say on the topic of the marriage. “Or perhaps you’ve come to ensure that I haven’t thrown myself out the window, as I threatened to. I imagine that would put a damper on your mood.” He paused, turned to look at her once more. “Although I imagine it wouldn’t be hard for the idiot Heir to-”

“Watch your _tongue_ , my son.”

Luhan closed his mouth, jaw clenching furiously. He stewed for a moment, before turning away. “I will not apologize for what I said. It was true, and you know it. If I die, he has to do nothing more than choose one of the hundreds of other pretty boys lined up to sit on his-” She slapped him; Luhan’s head snapped to the side and he grunted. “Oh, now he’ll piss and moan about how horrible I look. Is this really what you wished for me, mother?”

“What I wished for you has no place here. What I wish for my people is all that matters now. I did what I did to save them.” Luhan snorted quietly but didn’t have anything to say on the matter. “And I will regret this choice for the rest of my life, but I did it to protect my people, to protect my country, and I will not turn back now. Your marriage to the Heir will unite our two countries and create a peace that we have not seen for hundreds of years.”

“And what about what is best for me?” He turned to glare at her, eyes flashing. “Does my well-being mean _nothing_ to you? I know I am not your eldest son, I know that I have no chance at this throne, but I am still your _son_. I am still your child. Does that mean nothing to you?” He held her gaze for a few more moments, before looking away. “If there is one good thing to come of this, it was the realization that I will never have children.” Her brow furrowed, confused. “And I will never be the one to ruin a child’s life, when I could very easily have saved it. I will never be the one to do as you have done to me.” He ran his fingers through his hair, then adjusted the sash of his robes. His mother had gone white, eyes wide as she gazed at him. “Come, Mother. The Heir is waiting for his _gift_.”

He sneered the word as he started towards the door. Waiting in the hallway was Jongin, leaning against the wall. When he saw Luhan, he straightened, bowed his head. “Your Highness.”

“Jongin.” He brushed past him, made his way down the hall quickly. When he reached the front entrance, a small crowd was waiting for him. He pushed through them quickly, ignoring the quiet noises of fury amongst them. Jongin was at his shoulder, one hand coming up to hover an inch off of Luhan’s back. When they got outside, Luhan glowered at his carriage in distaste, before turning his gaze on Jongin. “I will not sit idle as I travel to my end.”

“Your Highness?”

“Fetch me my horse.” Jongin didn’t like the idea, that much was clear on his face, but he turned to one of the stablehands, spoke quietly to him. When he turned back to Luhan, there was conflict on his face. “And I suppose I ought to wear something more suitable for travel.” Jongin nodded once, flicked his fingers at two of the women standing nearby.

He flinched when he saw his mother walk out of the palace. There was fire in her eyes, as she stormed towards him. “You cannot mean to _ride_ all the way there!” She shrieked the words, people moving out of her way quickly. “You will be filthy, when you reach the palace! You will be completely unpresentable! The Prince will never accept you like that-” Luhan turned away as she approached him, to throw his saddle over the back of his horse. His mother grabbed his elbow, tugged him around to face her. “You will make a mockery of our family.” She spat the words in his face.

Luhan’s upper lip curled backwards in fury. “You made a mockery of our family when you decided that peace could be found by selling your son to a monster.” As the two women returned, one of them handed Luhan a robe. He slung it over his shoulders, then swung himself onto the horse. “Don’t bother to keep in touch. I don’t expect you’ll be hearing back, if you do.”

Without another word to her, he urged his horse forward, leaving his mother and the rest of her attendants behind.

***

They had stopped at an inn in a village at the border between the two nations for the night. Luhan didn’t look like he was going to sleep anytime soon; he was sitting with his back against a wall, knees pulled up to his chest. Jongin was sitting on the other side of the room, cross-legged, absent-mindedly polishing Luhan’s boots. After about an hour of silence, Jongin looked up at him, smiling. “You should be sleeping, your Highness. Tomorrow will be a long day, for you.” Luhan rolled his eyes, and Jongin let out a quiet laugh. “I suppose that’s the problem.” A slow nod and Jongin’s smile widened. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.” Jongin nodded, went back to polishing. “I don’t understand how my mother could do this.” Jongin didn’t look up from what he was doing, but he was listening. “I don’t understand how she could sell her son, to a man like him. How she could do that, to her flesh and blood. How she could so easily give me up, to him, when all he’s done is hurt our people.

Jongin paused, looked up at Luhan. “Perhaps she believes that you will find a better life, with him.” Luhan opened his mouth to protest, but Jongin spoke before he could. “You will have everything that you could possibly ask for – money, servants, whatever else you’d like; you will have a throne, and a crown, and a husband to protect you.”

“I would sooner bed a porcupine than presume that that man gives a shit about my well-being.” Jongin bowed his head. “Yes, I will have money. I will have money, and servants, and horses, and armies, and everything that you spoke of, I will have all of it.” He paused, then folded his arms over his chest. “But that man will never love me, and I will never love him.” Jongin nodded slowly, set the boots to the side. “And I know that it is childish, to believe that love should play a part in this. I just wish that it could have been someone that I might have been friends with.”

“Are you so sure that you cannot be friends with him?”

“Bite your tongue.” Jongin nodded once, kept his head down. When Luhan spoke again, his voice was gentle. “The Heir has murdered hundreds of my people, has ordered the deaths of thousands more. He and his father are the reason that my people have been starving, that my family has been forced to make increasingly atrocious deals with increasingly atrocious people. The only reason that I have been forced into this marriage is because my mother believes that it is our only chance to make peace with his people. I hate him, with everything in my heart, my soul, my body, my entire being.”

“Hatred is almost the same thing as murder, my Prince.”

“Jongin, I do value your advice, and I absolutely adore your precious face, but if you do not shut your mouth, I will break your nose, and then your ribs, and then your shoulder. Understood?”

“Yes, your Highness.” He bowed his head, placed Luhan’s boots side by side, before rising to his feet. “Have you any further need for me, my Prince?”

“Go to bed, Jongin.”

“Thank you, my Prince.”

***

When Jongin woke, Luhan was already dressed. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, lacing up his boots, when he heard Jongin stir. “I figured, the earlier we get moving, the slower we can move.” Jongin made a soft noise. “Up. I want to be riding before the sun has risen.” Jongin rose slowly, reaching blindly for his boots. He winced as the movement pulled at a knot in his back, tugging his boots on. “I don’t imagine that mattress was particularly comfortable.”

“No.” Jongin stood, pulled his cloak over his shoulders. “I don’t imagine sitting on the floor was, either.” Luhan laughed quietly, as he started towards the door. As he tugged it open, he turned to face Jongin, who was fastening his belt. He raised an eyebrow, and Jongin huffed out a laugh, before following him quickly. “You really do not wish to marry him? Even if it means peace for the rest of your country, for the rest of your life, possibly for generations to come?”

“Had there been a shred of concern for my well-being, I might have gone along with it. Had there been a shred of interest, in what I wanted, I might have played nicely. Had that man, that monster, that Heir, shown a shred of _interest_ in marrying me, I might not have made a shred of trouble in the matter.” He led Jongin down the stairs, and outside, where the horses were waiting. “Unfortunately, because of the way things worked out, because of my mother’s hardheadedness, because of my family’s idiocy, because of my betrothed’s terrible, awful, truly horrendous attitude towards the situation, none of that will come to pass. I will not make this easy, for my mother, for his family, but most importantly, I will not make it easy for him. I will not be complacent, in my imprisonment.”

“I would hardly call it imprisonment, my Prince.”

Luhan shot a look at Jongin, who bowed his head. “Is it not? I will not be allowed to leave.” He paused, as he swung onto his horse, nudging forward. Jongin followed without a word, kept his head down. “He expects me to be the kind of quiet little bitch that he can throw a crown, a throne, and more gold than I will ever need, at me, and I’ll keep my mouth shut and be content with my life.” He scoffed, mouth quirking into a tiny smirk. “No. I am going to make his life more difficult than it has ever been. I will make him, and my mother, regret this. I am going to make his country pay for everything that they have done to mine.”

“And how do you expect to do that, your Highness? From what I hear, the Heir does not take kindly to strangers in his Court.”

“The _Heir_ will be my husband. He will not stop me from doing what is my rightful duty. As a King, I will be entitled to lead the country.” Jongin nodded once. “It is peace that my mother wants. She will have it, but in that peace, I will find my retribution.”

They rode in silence for a few hours. The country they were in was warm, but damp; the humidity choked the lungs, made each breath harder than the last. When they finally came to a halt, Luhan could see the palace in the distance. He could see the white banners of the royal family. “I will make him and his father regret what they have done to my people.”

***

Luhan slowed to a halt as they approached the palace. Jongin stopped beside him, eyes on Luhan. A moment passed, before Luhan spoke, voice quiet, eyes downcast. “You see them?”

“It is rather hard to miss, my Prince.”

Luhan snorted softly. “Yes. That’s the royal family for you. Rather…ostentatious. I suppose we had best get used to it. But I’ll be _damned_ if I let them dress me up in their pompous, ridiculous, and, quite frankly, absolutely _atrocious_ things that they call clothes.” Jongin laughed quietly, then smiled at Luhan. “I will be the King of this country, yes, but I will not – and mark my words, Jongin, I will _not _\- allow them to dress me up like some fucking princess.” Without another word, he urged his horse into a walk. They made their way towards the palace slowly. Jongin muttered something snarky under his breath, but followed without any complaint. As they moved, Luhan allowed the outer piece of his robes to slip away, pooling around his hips. He could see the Heir himself, standing at the head of his guards.__

__He didn’t look happy. Good._ _

__When they stopped. Luhan stayed on his horse. Jongin dismounted slowly, and Luhan heard the others do the same. He fixed his gaze on the Prince, who considered him with careful eyes, before walking forward slowly. “Prince Luhan.” Luhan raised an eyebrow. “Welcome home.” Luhan dismounted a moment later, jaw clenching as he gazed at the man in front of him. He didn’t say a word, as the Prince took his hand, pressed a kiss to his knuckles. When he straightened, he crooked a finger, and two men came forward, one significantly taller than the other. “Chanyeol, see Luhan to his quarters. He is not to want for anything.” The taller of the two nodded once, eyes falling on Luhan. Clearly, he expected Luhan to follow._ _

__Very well. “Jongin.” The man followed wordlessly, as Chanyeol led Luhan away from the Prince. As they moved, Luhan closed his eyes, focusing hard, just enough to pick up on what the Prince said to the man who remained at his side._ _

__“See to it that the patrols are doubled on the border. I will not have the whore’s family taking advantage of this…happy, _happy_ occasion.”_ _

__“Of course, my Prince.”_ _

__Luhan’s eyes flew open, and he whipped around, fury rising in his throat. “Jongin.” The man turned, eyes wide. “Do not stop me, do not let anyone else stop me, am I understood?”_ _

__“Yes, your Highness.”_ _

__Luhan nodded once, then walked quickly towards the Prince, who had turned to look at him. “Care to repeat that?” The man that the Prince had spoken to turned quickly, started towards them, but before he could take more than five steps, Jongin was standing in between him and Luhan. “If you think that my family is going to attempt anything, then you do not understand the true depth of what has happened to my people.” The Prince rolled his eyes, a moment before Luhan slapped him. At that, the man tried to push past Jongin, who placed a hand on his chest, held him back. “If you learn one thing today, _your Highness_ , let it be the extent of what your family’s policies, your family’s _war_ , has done to mine.” He grabbed the Prince by the front of his cloak, tugged him down so their gazes locked. “My people, my family, have suffered, because of what your family has done. You and your father are to blame for the starvation and suffering of my entire nation. My country has not seen peace for a great many years. We have suffered war, after war, after war, for things that we could not control, we have suffered drought, and famine, and anguish, and death, and destruction, and when we came to you, seeking help, you gave us nothing but more war. My mother begged you, my brothers begged you, to help us, and you turned them away, you cast them out of your palace, and sent them to suffer further, in the pit of despair that my homeland has become. And now, now you expect me to go quietly into this marriage, a marriage to a man who still, despite everything, believes that my family has the power, and the will, to come after yours, when all we have wanted, for decades, is _peace_. So, let me make this very clear to you: my family is not capable of moving against the White Crown, nor do they have the will. They will not compromise this chance for unity and peace. And should you _dare_ assume that they would do such a thing, I will break your jaw, and then your nose, and then I will destroy your country, from the inside out. Do you understand me?”_ _

__“Of course, I do, Luhan.” The Prince pulled away from Luhan. “Kitten’s got teeth.”_ _

__Luhan punched him. The next thing he knew, Jongin had grabbed Luhan, and hauled him backwards, pulling him away from the Prince, murmuring apologies the whole way, both to Luhan, and to the Prince._ _

__When he finally released him, they were standing in what Luhan assumed was his new quarters. Well. Jongin was standing. He had had to drag Luhan the second half of the way and had dropped him on the floor when Luhan had bit him, hard. He hauled himself to his feet, swearing loudly, sparks dancing off of his fingertips, the fireplace flaring up furiously. “You heard what he called me!”_ _

__“I did, my Prince.”_ _

__“He made a _mockery_ of me, and what I stand for!”_ _

__“I heard him, your Highness. I heard every word.” Jongin cleared his throat, then reached out to help Luhan out of his robes. “And I heard what he said about your family, and I know it makes you angry, it makes me angry, too, but remember, my Prince, that you are not married to that man, not yet, and you have no power here, not yet. Do you understand?”_ _

__Luhan exhaled furiously, before he spoke. “Yes.”_ _

__Jongin nodded slowly, then laughed. “You were more upset about what he said about your family than what he said about you.” Luhan raised an eyebrow. “He called you a whore, my Prince. I thought that was what you were angry about.”_ _

__“No.” Luhan sat down with a quiet huff, eyes still angry. “I’ve been called a whore by far worse people than the White Crown’s precious pet prince. That is an insult that has not offended me for quite a few years. My betrothed, it seems, is not very creative.”_ _

__Jongin chuckled quietly, as he sat down across from Luhan. “Your Highness?”_ _

__“Mm.”_ _

__“Please don’t do anything stupid.” Luhan looked at him for a few moments. “I- your mother didn’t want me to tell you this, but she told me that, if the marriage fails, if you two aren’t married, if he tells us to leave, then I will be sent back here, to serve him.” Luhan swallowed, then bowed his head. “I don’t want to return to serving the White Crown.”_ _

__“But you would stay for me?”_ _

__“Of course, I would, you are my Prince.” He paused, clearly considering if he really wanted to keep talking. “The White Crown does not, ah, rather, did not, treat their servants very well, in my experience.” Luhan looked up at him quickly, fury in his eyes. “My Prince, please- please let me finish.” After a moment, Luhan nodded, jaw clenched. “He- I did not know the Crown Prince well enough to speak for his relationships with his servants, I served his younger brother. He, ah, he most certainly did _not_ have a positive relationship with his servants.” Luhan nodded once. “You remember how I came to serve you, your Highness?”_ _

__“My mother told me that my brothers- oh. They…they found you, when they were visiting, and, as I remember it, the Prince was going to have you killed.” Jongin nodded once. “What did he-”_ _

__“The Prince believed that I had played a role in an attempt on his life. It was completely unfounded, and the rest of the royal family did not believe it. Your brothers basically told the Prince that they would bring me back to your homeland, if he would spare my life. I don’t think it made a difference to him, either way, he just wanted me gone. I won’t lie, that was a touch disappointing, I had served that man for most of my life, I had done everything he had asked.” He looked away quickly. “I could not come back here. I could not return to their service.”_ _

__“So-”_ _

__“I stay for _you_ , my Prince.”_ _

__They both startled when someone knocked gently on the door. Jongin rose, made his way to the door quickly, and pulled it open, flinching when he saw who was on the other side. “I- your Highness.” He bowed, before he spoke again. “May I ask-”_ _

__“Let me speak to him.”_ _

__Jongin glanced back at Luhan, who wasn’t looking at him. After a moment, Jongin nodded, stepped aside. When the Prince stepped into the room, Jongin closed the door behind him. He came to sit across from Luhan, who looked up at him, fury in his eyes._ _

__Luhan had broken his nose, it would seem. It was starting to bruise. He snorted quietly, then grinned at the Prince, who looked at him with disdain in his eyes. “That looks good on you.” He raised an incredulous eyebrow, disdain quickly turning to disbelief. “Makes you look like a man.”_ _

__“Your tongue will do you no services in my country.” Luhan bowed his head, then looked up at the Prince, still angry. “You will sooner get yourself killed, speaking the way you do.”_ _

__Luhan chuckled quietly, crossed one leg over the other. “And you will sooner get yourself punched in the face, speaking the way you do. Although, I will not deny that it is a remarkable improvement.” The Prince rolled his eyes. “No, I am quite serious. Before you had a…baby face. Now, though, now you look like you might actually be the Crown Prince.”_ _

__“Watch your mouth.”_ _

__“Or _what_?” Luhan could see Jongin bristling and exhaled quietly. “But, I suppose that if we are to spend the rest of our lives together, we might as well spend them cordially. There will come a day when I will not be strong enough to break your nose.” He huffed out a laugh and the Prince stiffened. “My hatred for you is perfectly justified, and you are more than aware of that. Your people have tormented mine. My people are starving, dying. And I blame you and your father, wholeheartedly, for that. I have every right to be angry.” Jongin shifted slightly, just enough that Luhan caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. “Have you something to say, Jongin?”_ _

__“No, my Prince.”_ _

__“I’m sure he’d like to know where exactly my younger brother is, so as to avoid being seen by him.” Jongin cleared his throat quietly, looked away. “You need not worry. You serve the Prince of Eliria, not the White Crown, and he knows it. He will not touch you.” The Prince looked back at Jongin, eyes gentler than Luhan had known they could be. “And if he does, then I am sure mine will not be the only broken nose in the royal family.”_ _

__Luhan snorted. “If that man lays so much as a finger on Jongin, I will do far worse than breaking his nose.” The Prince nodded once. “But you already knew that. That’s why you had him sent away, when you heard I’d be bringing Jongin with me.” Luhan leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. “For that, I will thank you.”_ _

__“I did not do it for you.”_ _

__“No, you did it because you knew that it would be the first thing that I’d ask of you, and you wanted to have as little to do with me as possible.” The Prince frowned, but didn’t rush to deny the claim; he knew Luhan was right. “I will thank you, regardless of your intention.”_ _

__“How noble of you.”_ _

__“I do not do it to be noble, your Highness.” He got to his feet. “Leave us. Please.” After a few moments of silence, the Prince rose to his feet, and left the room. “The man he spoke to, about the patrols along the border. Who was he?”_ _

__Jongin sighed quietly – he knew where this was going. “His name is Kyungsoo. He’s the Crown Commander, second only to the royal family in his command of the White Armies.” Luhan nodded once. “I imagine you want to see him, my Prince?”_ _

__“You imagine correctly.” Luhan tapped a finger on his lower lip. “I want to know how the war against the West has gone, for them.” He smiled, and Jongin swallowed hard. He knew that look, knew it all too well. “Let us see if the White Armies of Sivalia are truly as powerful as legend would have us believe.”_ _

__“Of course, your Highness.” Jongin walked to the door, poked his head out to speak quietly to Chanyeol, who was waiting in the hallway. When he reentered the room, Luhan was still deep in thought. “My Prince?”_ _

__“When am I to meet the King and Queen?”_ _

__“Dinner, tonight, your Highness.” He paused. “the Prince will come collect you, before you two join them.” He bowed his head, as Luhan brushed past him. Jongin followed at his heels, into the bedroom, pausing to pick up Luhan’s clothes as he shed them. Luhan went straight towards the bathroom, as Jongin carried his clothes into the closet._ _

__Jongin shrieked in outrage when he saw the inside of the closet. He heard Luhan say something – probably _what_ \- but didn’t reply, struggling to take in the sight before him. After a few seconds, he backed out of the closet, and walked towards the bathroom, stuck his head in. “You were rather adamant about not dressing in their clothing, correct? Something about…not wanting them to dress you up like a princess?” Luhan nodded once, clearly confused by the question. “Okay. Thank you.” Luhan opened his mouth to ask, but Jongin shook his head once, trying to contain his fury. “I’ll…I will handle the situation and catch you up later. It’s…bad.”_ _

__“What did they _do_ , Jongin?” Jongin bowed his head, didn’t answer. That turned out to be a mistake; the next thing he knew, Luhan was climbed out of the bath, pulling a robe around his body. “I have a pretty good idea of what it is, based on your face, and your questions, and I really hope that I am wrong in that assumption, because if I am right, I am going to murder that son of a bitch.” He stormed across the room, Jongin following quietly at his shoulder. When he stepped into closet, he froze, shoulders going stiff. A few moments passed, then he turned to Jongin. “Bring me the Prince.” Jongin opened his mouth to say something, but Luhan cut him off, voice sharp. “ _Now_ , Jongin. Don’t make me ask again.”_ _

__“Yes, my Prince.” Jongin left the room quickly. Luhan made a quiet, furious noise in his throat, and reached for the clothes that Jongin had dropped on the floor. He changed into them quickly, left his robe on the floor when he heard the door open again._ _

__The Prince was waiting just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He looked upset, but not in the way Luhan had expected; he was upset that he’d been disturbed, but not that it was Luhan. “What can I do for you, Luhan?” Luhan gave him what he hoped was a patronizing look, then threw the door to the closet open._ _

__“Care to explain this?” The Prince didn’t say anything. “I believe that I made it very explicitly clear that I was bringing my own wardrobe. I believe that I was very adamant that this,” he gestured at the closet and the clothes hanging there, “not happen.” The Prince raised an eyebrow as he gazed at Luhan. “So, explain to me why it _happened_.”_ _

__“I think you need to calm down. They’re just clothes.”_ _

__Luhan exhaled, furiously. “And _now_ , they’re a waste of someone’s time, effort, and money. I don’t want them, I don’t need them, and I am not going to accept them.” The Prince rolled his eyes and Luhan made an angry noise in his throat. “You expect me to keep them.”_ _

__“They are a gift, Luhan. I don’t know about your country, but in Sivalia, it is polite to keep gifts that you receive, especially when those gifts are from the royal family.” Luhan was glaring at him, but it didn’t seem to phase the Prince. “I’ll have someone find a home for them. Did you need anything else from me, or can I return to my duties?” There was acid in his tone._ _

__“Just get out.”_ _


	2. Chapter 2

“I hate him.”

“I know, my Prince.” Luhan shot Jongin a look, as Jongin helped unfasten the ties on the back of his shirt. “I think I figured that out when I watched you punch him in the nose, your Highness.”

Luhan frowned but didn’t argue the point. A few moments passed in silence, as Jongin helped him out of his shirt. “I’ve been here for two weeks.” Jongin nodded, folded Luhan’s shirt over his arm. Luhan passed him his pants when he got out of them, then turned to pull on his clean clothes. “I’ve spoken to him privately twice, and both of those times were on my first day here. Couldn’t even be considered private, because you were there.” He tugged the shirt over his head, then turned to face Jongin. “So, it seems that the secret to communication is hurting him.”

“I don’t think that is a good idea, my Prince.” Luhan nodded, smiling. “Have you…asked him, to talk to you?”

“Of course I have. How do you think he took that?” Jongin bowed his head. “I have had more private conversations with his mother and father than I have had with him. The King and Queen are truly lovely people; I don’t understand how they produced someone like him.” Jongin nodded once, then followed Luhan out of the bedroom. “Speaking of the King and Queen, I’m meeting them for lunch today, in the gardens.” Jongin nodded slowly, as they crossed the room and stepped into the hallway. “Where’s Chanyeol?” Jongin shrugged, one-shouldered. “Well, why don’t you _find_ him?” Jongin nodded quickly, then slipped away. Luhan made his way down the hallway, and up a flight of stairs, into Kyungsoo’s office. He’d never bothered knocking; as he understood it, Kyungsoo was always here.

But today, apparently the Prince had decided to join them. They were standing over the war table, deep in thought, so deep that neither of them heard Luhan approach. “Well, you two look busy.” Kyungsoo startled, knocked a book off of the edge of the table. He picked it up, apologizing quietly, as Luhan came to stand in between them. “Any change?”

“No, your Hi- Luhan.” The use of Luhan’s name clearly made Kyungsoo uncomfortable. “They haven’t gained any ground, but neither have we.” He leaned across the table, to tap at a spot on the border. “My Prince, if we are to make any progress in this war, we need to _move_. We have to be willing to take a risk, otherwise nothing is going to change.”

“You know that doing that won’t end well. You know that if we try to do as you ask, they will be massacred. We will lose hundreds, if not thousands, of soldiers. I cannot do that, I cannot sacrifice them, for something that isn’t going to work. Because, let’s be real, Kyungsoo, it isn’t going to work. We might make a change, but it will not win us this war.”

“You don’t know that.” Kyungsoo and Luhan spoke in unison. Kyungsoo cleared his throat, bowed his head, as Luhan spoke again. “It’s worked before, for your country.”

“Has it?”

Kyungsoo nodded slowly, as Luhan spoke again. “Four years ago. Sivalia and Eliria were at war, I’m sure you remember that war.” Luhan circled the table to point at a spot on the border of the two countries. “Actually, it’s a pretty identical scenario. The armies were deadlocked, no one could gain any ground. But the White Wolves of Sivalia snuck across the border, right here, part of the holy grounds of Eliria’s gods, into the country.” The Prince raised an eyebrow, eyes critical. “It won your father the war.” They lapsed into silence, as Luhan returned to his place. “Surely you knew that. Sure you _know_ your own country’s history.”

“Of course, I do.” He didn’t, it was written all over his face. “What do _you_ know, about my country’s history?”

Luhan smiled brightly at him. “My elder brothers fought in that war. You forget, your Highness, that my country was directly involved in that war. I’ve also been reading up on Sivalia’s history ever since I found out that I had to marry you.” He paused, still smiling. “And I’ve been in here every day for the past two weeks with Kyungsoo, he’s kept me very up to date with the war.” Kyungsoo looked up at the mention of his name, surprised, and Luhan cleared his throat. “Try it.”

“Absolutely not! If it goes wrong-”

“Your soldiers can handle a little bit of battle. It’s more than they’ve seen in the past few weeks, is it not?” After a few moments, the Prince nodded once. “Try it.” He didn’t look like he was going to listen. “ _Try_ it. If you don’t do anything, those people are going to stay out there for the next two years, and eventually, your Highness, we’re going to run out of resources to send them, their families are going to run out of patience for this war, and the country is going to cave to the demands of their enemies.” The Prince snorted, turned away. “Oh, seriously? You find out that I know your nation’s history better than you do, that I know military strategy, and you don’t care.” Luhan huffed out a quiet laugh, before he continued. “Why won’t you?”

It became clear very quickly that the Prince wasn’t going to answer that question. After a few moments, Kyungsoo spoke quietly. “He believes that you’re going to use this war to distract our nation, so that your homeland can take advantage of our distraction.” He bowed his head when he heard the Prince make a quiet noise of disapproval in his throat. “I’m sorry, my Prince. But it’s true. I won’t withhold that from him, he has a right to know.”

“No, he doesn’t! He isn’t a part of the royal family, he has no right to know these kinds of things, and you, most certainly, have no right to disclose those details to him. I could have you arrested for treason.”

“You could, but you won’t.”

“Oh, what do you know, about any of this? You’ve been here-”

“For two weeks, yes. And in that two weeks, I’ve learned a lot of things about you and the way you are running this war. You think you can win this war because you believe that you can hold out longer than they can. You’re wrong.” He paused, considering the Prince carefully. “That country has more money and resources than you can possibly imagine. They will end you, in two months, two years, or two centuries, they will do whatever it takes to destroy you. The longer you make them wait, the longer you draw this war out, the more thoroughly they will destroy you, and your family, and your people, and your country.” He turned away from the Prince before he could speak, looked at Kyungsoo. “Do it.” Without another word, he brushed past them both, and left the room. Jongin was waiting in the hallway, Chanyeol standing beside him, uncertainty written across his face. “Chanyeol. I’ll need my horse this evening.” Chanyeol nodded once. “You can go, now.” He started down the hallway, and Jongin followed.

“And what do you ask of me, your Highness?”

“The same thing I always have, when we find ourselves in danger.”

“And what is that, my Prince? Provide a running commentary on every individual in the room until the one who wishes you dead lashes out in fury? Or perhaps line them all up, and punch each of them in the nose, until the assassin reveals himself?” Luhan smacked him lightly in the head, and Jongin laughed quietly. “Watch them. Learn them. And, should the moment present itself, should I have the opportunity…end them. Defend my Prince without a second thought.”

“Oh, I’m so glad I didn’t turn you away when you came to my family. I am so glad that I didn’t let my idiot brother take you for his own.” Luhan pushed open the door to the gardens, stepped outside. “You have served me well. I do hope you intend to continue that service.”

“Until I die, or you release me from your service, my Prince, I’ll give you everything that I have to give. It is the least I can do for you; you saved my life. I owe you everything. I am yours.”

Luhan smiled brightly. “I’m glad to hear it.” A beat of silence, then his smile faded. “Someone here wishes to see me dead; it is not my betrothed, he isn’t that stupid, he would not see me killed until after we are wed. And it is not his parents, they wish to see us marry as much as mine.” Jongin nodded slowly. “Find out who it is. Bring them to me, alive.”

“Of course, my Prince.” Jongin paused, half-turned away from Luhan. “I- how do you know? How could you possibly know that someone wishes to kill you? Nothing has happened to-”

“When you spend your entire life dodging death threats and assassins, Jongin,” he paused, examining Jongin carefully, “you learn to recognize when someone is trying to do the same as I have asked of you.” Another beat of silence. “Find this person. Bring him to me. Or die trying.”

“With pleasure, your Highness.”

***

“So, Luhan. “The Queen leaned forward, hands clasped gently on the table in front of her. She was smiling fondly at him, her eyes bright. “It has been a number of years since my husband and I have visited Eliria. Tell me, is it still so dry, in the mountains?”

Luhan laughed quietly but nodded once. “It is. Although, your Majesty, I never considered that it would be dry, there, until I came to Sivalia for the first time.” She laughed quietly, but nodded her understanding. “It took a week to get used to inhaling water every time I tried to breathe.” The Queen chuckled, and his comment even got a soft laugh out of the King. 

They lapsed into silence after that, picking idly at what remained of their lunch. Eventually – Luhan wasn’t sure how long it had taken, but frankly, it didn’t matter – the King spoke, voice gentle. “I hear that you’ve taken an interest in the war.” Luhan nodded once but didn’t speak. The King, he had learned, cared little for hurried words. “I will admit, it is refreshing to hear that. What you have done in the past two weeks is more than my son has done in his life.”

“My dear-”

“Darling.” The King raised his hand to silence his wife. “What I said about my son is the truth; he has never taken to the planning of a war. He took only to fighting them.” He placed his hand on the Queen’s arm. “What have you learned?”

Luhan cleared his throat quietly, before he spoke. “Your Armies are strong, your soldiers powerful. You have a very wise and well-practiced Commander.” The King nodded slowly; he knew all of this. “And, were you fighting a normal war, that would suffice. Unfortunately, your Majesty, for as powerful as the White Crown’s soldiers may be, the war you are fighting now is not a war of strength. It is not a test of who is more powerful, who has more weapons. It is a test of whose country can sustain them for longer, as they remain trapped in those trenches. They cannot move forward, neither side can. No ground can be lost or gained. There is one end to this war, if it continues this way: Sivalia runs out of supplies, the soldiers and their families run out of patience, and you lose your war.”

The King’s eyes narrowed, glinting softly. “And what would you have us do?”

“I have discussed this at length, with your son and with Kyungsoo. Your army, if you wish to win, cannot stay in that place any longer. They have to move. They have to fight back, they have to do _something_ , to change the tide of the war.” His fingers tapped absently at the table, and after a few seconds, he spoke again. “Your son does not believe that it will work, and your Commander will follow his order to not listen to me.”

“And so, you would ask me to overrule my son’s command to Kyungsoo.”

“I would.” The Queen gasped quietly, but the King had been expecting the answer, gave no indication that he had heard it. He clearly wasn’t offended by the idea. “Because your son, my King, is an idiot. He may know how to fight a battle – and I’ve heard of his talent with a blade, I’ve seen him fight at the Harvest Moon tournament – but he knows nothing about winning a war.” Luhan leaned back, taking in the look that the King had fixed him with. He was furious. “You know better than anyone that a talent with a sword is not the only skill that a King needs to possess. It is probably a good idea for a King to have half a brain in his head.” Luhan got to his feet quickly and turned away, before glancing back, meeting the King’s furious eyes. “Perhaps something good will come of this marriage: there will be an heir to the White Throne who knows what a war is, and how to win one.” Without another word, he turned on his heel, and walked away, leaving them alone. As he went, he heard the Queen laugh quietly, before speaking, her voice quiet and gleeful.

“He will not be the docile little thing that the Queen of Eliria promised us.” He heard a vague grumble of assent, from the King. “He will not be the weak, soft-spoken Prince that our Sehun remembers.” She laughed quietly. “He will be a King, a King that will lead Sivalia to great things. He will be the King that our son needs.”

“And here I thought turning the war over to Sehun would be a chance for peace in my life.”

“When has Sehun ever given us peace?” The King laughed, at that. “Now, I think, Kyungsoo’s complaints will grow quiet. Now, he will have a commander that will let him fight a war like a war should be fought.”

***

“How is it,” Jongin nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard someone speak from the doorway. He turned quickly, eyes finding Kyungsoo leaning on the doorframe, head cocked to the side, jaw jutting out in a rather arrogant tilt, “that you’ve been here for two weeks, and I’ve only just now seen your face?” He watched Jongin with careful eyes, as he stepped closer, knocking the door shut behind him with an elbow. “Have you been hiding from me?”

“I- beg your pardon, my Lord?”

Kyungsoo’s mouth quirked into a tiny smile. “You have been in Sivalia for two weeks, have you not?” Jongin nodded once, still watching Kyungsoo cautiously as he crossed the room. “I will say, I am surprised that my Prince allowed you to stay.” Jongin raised an eyebrow, clearly not following. Kyungsoo’s smile widened as he came to stand in front of Jongin, gazing up at him. “You are very pretty, and the Prince is a very jealous man. I find it hard to believe that he does not see you as competition.”

“I- competition for _what_ , my Lord? All due respect, but I-” He was blushing, now, face going pink as he stumbled over his words. Kyungsoo merely laughed quietly, waited a few seconds, before Jongin seemed to understand. “Oh. No, I’m not- I wouldn’t- he is my Prince, and I don’t- we aren’t- I would never, I’m not interested in him like that.”

Kyungsoo smiled brightly, something dangerous in his eyes. “Good. It is wrong, you know, for a servant to love his master.”

“I don’t- he saved my life, his family saved my mother, I owe him my life. He is my Prince, my leader, I would never do anything to- to disrupt his marriage to your Prince.”

“Wonderful.” Kyungsoo’s gaze had turned predatory, dangerous. “You have very pretty eyes, has anyone ever told you that?” Jongin swallowed hard, then shook his head once. Kyungsoo had stepped closer, caging Jongin against the table. “Your skin is lovely. I don’t imagine that you got that tan in Eliria.”

“No, I’m from…I’m from Sivalia. Originally.”

Kyungsoo smiled at him, teeth dragging over his lower lip. “I don’t imagine you’ve ever had time to take a lover. You know, in your service to the future King of Sivalia, youngest son of the Crown of Eliria.”

“ _What_?” Kyungsoo laughed softly but didn’t repeat the question. “I- I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, my Lord, but I-”

“I’ll take that as a no.” A beat of silence followed the statement; the next thing Jongin knew, Kyungsoo had his hands on Jongin’s jaw, forcing him to hold his gaze. He was close, too close, so close that Jongin could feel each breath face, fanning across his skin. “Does that mean,” he paused, thumbs stroking gently at his cheeks, “that you have never had anyone express their interest?” Jongin made a soft noise, that might have been an affirmation. “Does that mean, pretty Jongin, that you’ve never been kissed?”

“I- no?”

Kyungsoo’s smile widened and he tipped Jongin’s head down, pulled him closer. “Would you like to be?” Jongin made a quiet noise, half-fear, half-want. “Would you let me, if I tried to?” Jongin didn’t say anything, held still by his fear, fully aware that he was hard, and that Kyungsoo could feel all of it. “Stop me, if you do not want this.” Without another word, Kyungsoo closed the gap between their mouths, sealing his over Jongin’s. Jongin whined quietly, blushing furiously at the noise; it was hot and wet and _messy_ , and he was all too aware of Kyungsoo’s hands, one on his jaw, the other on his shoulder. When Jongin whined again, Kyungsoo hushed him quietly. “Shh, hush. Breathe. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Jongin’s head tipped back as he gasped for air, and Kyungsoo laughed quietly, pressed his mouth to Jongin’s jaw, before pulling away. After a few seconds filled with nothing but the sound of Jongin’s heaving breaths, he looked at Kyungsoo with wide, terrified eyes. “I- do that again. Please.” Kyungsoo smiled, but obliged him, pressed his mouth to Jongin’s, gentler than before, allowing Jongin a chance to kiss him back, to have some semblance of control.

This time, when Kyungsoo pulled away, Jongin had something of a smile in his eyes, tugging at the corner of his mouth. Kyungsoo smiled back at him, kissed him once more, nothing but a chaste press of his lips, against Jongin’s, before he pulled away, releasing Jongin entirely. Jongin looked at him, wonder in his eyes, but he didn’t speak, kept his mouth sealed shut. “So, now that you’ve been kissed,” he paused, stepped backwards, giving Jongin room to breathe, “would you like to do it again?” Jongin didn’t answer. “Because I, for one, would like nothing more than to kiss you until you are the only thing I can taste on my lips.”

Jongin swallowed, voice weak when he spoke. “What?”

“Would you like to kiss me again?”

“ _Now_?” Kyungsoo shrugged. “I- I- I have a job to do, my Lord, I have to- I- surely my Prince will be expecting me.” Kyungsoo shrugged again, the message clear on his face. It didn’t have to be now. “I have to go, I have to…I have to get back to work.” He picked up his book off of the table and stepped around Kyungsoo started towards the door. He paused, there, and looked back at Kyungsoo, who turned slowly to meet his eyes. “Kiss me again.”

Kyungsoo chuckled quietly, walked quickly to him. He placed a hand on Jongin’s chest, pushed him back against the door, and then stopped, their mouths a breath apart. “No.” Jongin made a quiet noise of complaint. “You kiss me.” Jongin stilled, breathing hard, then leaned forward, their mouths meeting. Jongin’s was tentative, unsure, but Kyungsoo didn’t mind, let Jongin do as he pleased. When Jongin pulled back, Kyungsoo was smiling at him. “You have work to do.” His voice was gentle, tender, almost fond. “Go.” Jongin made a quiet noise, as Kyungsoo pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I will see you later. Alone.” Jongin’s hands had fisted in Kyungsoo’s shirt, and he tugged him against his body. “And when I do, I will show you exactly what you have been missing out on, in your service to the Prince of Eliria. I will show you all of the things that I can do to you.” He kissed Jongin’s cheek, then his mouth, gentle. “Go.”

“Promise me.”

“You have my word. I will come to you, and I will do anything that you wish for me to do to you.”

Jongin nodded quickly, then leaned down to press a kiss to Kyungsoo’s mouth. “Prince Luhan will-”

“Tell him that I held you up, with talk of the war. Tell him whatever you wish to tell him, but I trust that you know not to tell him about what transpired here, in this room.” Jongin nodded quickly. “It’s wrong, you know, for the servant of a Prince and the Crown Commander of Sivalia, to be found kissing each other.” He kissed Jongin once more. “Now go.” Jongin nodded, slipped out of the room quickly, leaving Kyungsoo alone.

***

“Jongin.”

“My Prince?”

Luhan cocked his head to the side in thought. “What happened to you?” Jongin blinked slowly, confused, as Luhan stared at him. “You have a look on your face.” Something happened, something you aren’t telling me about. Anything to do with the fact that you were later than usual, this evening?” Jongin still didn’t look like he understood what was going on. “I won’t make you tell me, Jongin, because I trust you, and I know that if it were of any importance, you would have already told me. But the moment that it starts to interfere with your service to me, that changes, do you understand?”

“Of course, my Prince. You need not worry. It will not interfere, you have my word.” Luhan nodded slowly, then turned back to the stack of papers in front of him. “Your Highness, your mother sent word.” Luhan snorted quietly but didn’t say anything. “What shall I tell her?”

“You shall tell her exactly what I told her, when I left. I don’t want to hear from her, I do not want her sending word to me, I do not want her letters, I do not want to have anything to do with her, or with my family. They sent me here; they will deal with the consequences of that mistake.” Jongin nodded once, his hands fluttering absently at his side. “My Prince.”

“Jongin.” He was getting annoyed, now. Best to keep this short. “What is it?”

“The Heir would have you join him for dinner, tomorrow night. Alone.” Luhan went still and Jongin’s veins flooded with regret. Perhaps he ought to have begun with that news.

“And you thought,” he looked up at Jongin, smiling tensely, eyes furious, “that it would be best to tell me this _last_.” Jongin didn’t say anything. “It did not occur to you that this might be the first thing I’d want to hear.” He stood, slowly, and came around his desk to stand in front of Jongin. “Has your brain fallen out of your head, by chance? Has the humidity caused you to lose any sense of reason or rationality?” Jongin shook his head, and Luhan laughed quietly. “You say no. The idiocy of your actions tells me the exact opposite.” Jongin bowed his head, and Luhan brushed past him. “Very well. Tell the fucking Heir that he will have my company, so long as he rescinds his order to Kyungsoo.”

“I will, my Prince. And I am sure that he will have a reply that is just as sarcastic.” Luhan chuckled, as he watched Jongin leave the room. He retreated into the bedroom, as the door closed behind Jongin. Once he had locked the door behind himself, he crossed the room, to the balcony, pushing the doors open harder than he needed to. Once he was outside, he inhaled deeply, lip curling in distaste at the humidity. He allowed himself a moment of silence, before he spoke, voice quiet.

“I know that you have been following me. I know that you have been watching me. I know that you are hunting me.” He held still for a moment, hands clasped behind his back. “You would see my head on a pike. You would kill me before my wedding, so you do not serve my family, nor do you serve my future husband’s. Your master, however, is invested in seeing me dead, so it follows that he wishes to see relations between my family and the White Crown to crumble entirely. That would mean that Sivalia would see no aid in the war against Eishta, which leads me to believe that you serve the Dark King.”

He heard the person stop, a few feet behind him. After a few moments, he spoke, voice quiet, accented. He was not from Eishta, then. “You are right, your Highness.” A moment passed, before he spoke again. “You did get a few things wrong, young Prince. You are right, I was sent by Eishta. My King does wish to see an end to the war against Sivalia. I have been following, and watching, and hunting you, yes.” He paused, as he came to stand beside Luhan. “But I have not been sent here to kill you.” Luhan looked up at him quickly. When he caught the man’s eye, he saw the lightest gleam of gold in them, and his breath caught in his throat. “I have been sent here to learn you. To learn your Kingdom’s weaknesses.”

“And have you?” Luhan looked at him, and the man stepped backwards, eyes cautious. “Have you learned me, Zitao of the Dark Ravens? Have you done your duty to the Crown that you swore your blade to?” A moment passed, then Luhan laughed. “I should say, the _second_ Crown. Because, if I remember correctly, you first swore your swords to the Iron Crows. I was there, you know, I watched you swear…how do they say it, exactly? ‘ _My heart, my soul, my life, for the Crown of Eliria, I swear on everything that the gods have given me in this life, I will protect my Crown, I will serve my people, without hesitation or doubt or second thoughts. Should I fail, my life is forfeit before the gods_?’” Something like that, if I remember correctly. Of course, I myself never took the Vows; I did, however, get to watch a number of young men take them, before me. And, when I got old enough, I even got to give them their blade, which,” he paused, grabbed the man by the wrist, and flipped it over, to reveal a long scar across his palm, “they then used to draw their own blood, to confirm their commitment to the royal family.” He looked up at Zitao, smiling. “So, you tell me, Zitao, of the Iron Crow, commander of the Silver Vision: have you done your duty to your Crown?”

Zitao yanked his hand away, eyes dark. When he spoke again, it was in Elirian, the syllables awkward on his tongue, as if he was out of practice. “I did what I had to do, your Highness. The Ravens would have killed me, had I not done as I did.”

“Better to be dead and loyal, than alive and a traitor.”

“Is it so?” Zitao spat the words, as he backed away. “Perhaps it is. But it matters not, your Highness; Crow or Raven, you are not my Prince. I will not kneel before a Sivalian King’s bitch.”

Luhan had him pinned to the wall in mere seconds, hand around his throat. “You swore an oath to me, and to my family. Regardless of who I am promised to marry, you still serve my family, you still serve _me_.” Zitao laughed breathlessly, then spat in Luhan’s face, eyes glinting dangerously. “You made three mistakes tonight, Zitao. The first was showing your face here.” Zitao rolled his eyes. “The second was not making sure that I was alone.”

Zitao’s eyes went wide. He struggled, managed to break Luhan’s grip for a split second, before Jongin had his hands on him, yanking him back through the doors, and clamping leather cuffs around his wrists. “And the third, little oath-breaker,” Luhan paused, as he gazed at Zitao, “was not using your Magic when you had the chance.” He turned his gaze on Chanyeol. “Get him out of my sight. Inform the royal family of what happened here.” A moment later, he looked at Jongin. “Send word to Eishta; I wish to meet with their King.”

“My Prince, all due respect, but-”

“You will do as I have asked, Jongin.”

Jongin paused. “Yes, my Prince.” He bowed, and left the room without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

Jongin gasped when Kyungsoo pulled away from him, smile wide. He was sitting on Jongin’s lap, pinning him to the couch with his thighs, one arm wrapped around Jongin’s neck, his other hand in his hair. Jongin gazed up at him, breathing heavily, then returned his smile. Kyungsoo’s eyes softened, and he leaned down to kiss Jongin gently, fingers scratching softly at his scalp. “You okay?” Jongin nodded slowly. “You sure? I’m not pushing too hard?” Another nod, this one more assured than the first. Kyungsoo laughed quietly, then kissed him once more, before he leaned down to kiss his neck softly. “Tell me if you need me to stop. Even if you need me to slow down, if you need to breathe, just tell me. I won’t do anything that you don’t want.” Jongin nodded once, hummed his affirmation, as Kyungsoo kissed slowly down his neck. “I’m not going to mark you. Not where Luhan is going to see it.” Jongin made a soft noise in his throat, hands stroking endlessly at Kyungsoo’s sides.

Jongin whined when Kyungsoo pulled his shirt aside to kiss his shoulder. “Kyun- ah!” Kyungsoo laughed softly, kissed the tiny mark that he’d left when he’d nipped Jongin gently. He reached for the ties on Jongin’s shirt, undid them slowly, then slid his hands under Jongin’s shirt, to push it up over his head. His gaze locked on Jongin’s, eyes dark and serious, and he ducked down to kiss him once more. Jongin exhaled quietly when Kyungsoo pulled back, then smiled at him. “This is moving very quickly.”

“I can slow down.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it, don’t- I like it. I do. I just…I’ve never done this before, and it’s a lot to take in.” He took a deep breath, before he spoke, voice quiet. “Kiss me again?” Kyungsoo smiled, then leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his mouth. Jongin’s mouth fell open in a quiet sigh, and Kyungsoo, in a rather daring move, licked into his mouth slowly. Jongin stiffened, and Kyungsoo stilled, but Jongin didn’t pull away, so Kyungsoo moved again slowly, tongue slowly exploring Jongin’s mouth. After a few moments, Jongin relaxed, going limp underneath him. Kyungsoo pulled back a moment later.

“You good?” Jongin nodded slowly, hands moving to Kyungsoo’s shoulders. “Okay. I’m going to touch you, now.” Jongin nodded again, as Kyungsoo leaned down to press a kiss to his collarbone. He mouthed across Jongin’s collarbone, then back, and down the center of his chest. Jongin whined softly the entire time, breathing heavy, arching and squirming. When Kyungsoo got to the scar on Jongin’s stomach, he mouthed at it for a few seconds. He ran his teeth over it gently, and Jongin startled. Kyungsoo ran his hand down his thigh soothingly, hushing him quietly. Jongin shuddered and Kyungsoo chuckled, pressed a kiss to the scar before continuing his path downwards. When he got to the top of Jongin’s pants, he paused, looked up at him, chin resting on the ties of his pants. “Can I?”

“I…” he paused, chewing on his lower lip. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

Jongin nodded quickly. “Yes.” Kyungsoo smiled fondly at him, then tugged open the ties slowly, pulled Jongin’s pants out of the way, revealing his cock. Jongin was blushing furiously, and after a moment, Kyungsoo moved, to kiss him gently.

“Hey.” He kissed Jongin again, and Jongin smiled up at him. “I’m not going to hurt you. And I will stop, if you tell me to.” He kissed Jongin one more time. “I’ll make you feel good.”

“I trust you.”

Kyungsoo smiled at him, fingers stroking gently at his jaw. “And I will do everything I can to never break that trust.” Another gentle kiss, before he moved again, to straddled Jongin’s thighs. “You’ve touched yourself before, I’m sure.” Jongin nodded quickly, still blushing. “You’re so pretty when you blush.” Jongin made a quiet noise in his throat, as Kyungsoo’s fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking gently. “It’s a gorgeous color on you, that red. And it is so absolutely _adorable_ , how embarrassed you are.” Jongin made a soft noise of complaint, but Kyungsoo hushed him quietly. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s endearing; I’d rather make you blush than make you upset. And,” he paused, leaned down to kiss Jongin gently, “I like knowing that I’m the reason you’re blushing.” Jongin whined quietly, eyes tracking Kyungsoo’s every move. “Gods, you’re so gorgeous.”

“Kyungsoo, I-” He cut off with a whimper.

Kyungsoo ran a hand through his hair, leaned down to kiss him once more. “You’re going to come?” Jongin nodded quickly, panting quietly. “Go ahead. Come for me, pretty Jongin.” Jongin did, pulling Kyungoo against him, grip tight. Kyungsoo chuckled quietly, pressed a kiss to Jongin’s hair, then to his forehead. “You’re so gorgeous.” He shifted slightly, and Jongin flinched when it rubbed at his cock. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” Jongin hummed softly, pressed a kiss to his shoulder gently. Kyungsoo slid a hand under his jaw, tilted his head up just enough to kiss him softly. “So beautiful.” He kissed Jongin one more time, before he sat up. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Jongin whined quietly, grabbed Kyungsoo by the waist and pulled him back down. “Jongin-”

Jongin made a quiet noise in his throat. “You didn’t-”

“Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry.” He sat up again, brought Jongin with him. “Bath. Go. I’ll follow you.” Jongin pouted, but went without a word. Kyungsoo followed not far behind, unabashedly staring at Jongin’s ass as he walked. Once they were both settled in the bathtub, Kyungsoo crawled back into Jongin’s lap, kissed him gently. “So,” Jongin blushed again, and Kyungsoo laughed softly, leaned down to kiss his earlobe, “you like when I kiss you?”

“I feel like that might have been a little bit obvious.” Kyungsoo laughed quietly, as Jongin kissed him again. “I do. It’s really, just, it’s really fun. It feels really good. All of that was, was good.”

“Mm?” Jongin nodded quickly. “You like when I touch you?” Another nod. Kyungsoo smiled, then shifted, so he was in between Jongin’s legs. “Would you let me touch you like that again?” He leaned forward, kissed Jongin gently. “Would you touch me the way I touched you?” Jongin nodded, eyes wide as he gazed up at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo leaned forward, arms braced on the tug on either side of Jongin’s head. The movement pressed his cock against Jongin’s thigh, and Jongin whined quietly. Kyungsoo kissed him gently, and Jongin whined again, wrapping his hands around Kyungsoo’s hips, tugging him forward.

“I want you to come. Please. I want to make you come.”

Kyungsoo laughed quietly. “Do you?” Jongin nodded, and Kyungsoo smiled. “Okay. Stay still, don’t move.” Jongin exhaled quietly, fingers clenching around Kyungsoo’s hips as he rutted forward, against Jongin’s thigh. He did it again and Jongin whimpered softly, gazing up at Kyungsoo with wide eyes. “Want me to kiss you?” Jongin nodded, and he leaned down to kiss him again, licking into his mouth like he had earlier. He rutted forward again, and this time, he came, going stiff, back arching harshly. He lowered himself before slowly onto Jongin, who was holding him tightly against his chest. “You’re so sweet.”

Jongin laughed quietly, smoothed his hand over Kyungsoo’s hair. After a few moments, Kyungsoo sat up. “You need to go to bed, the Prince will need you early in the morning.”

“I know.” Jongin sat up slowly, followed Kyungsoo out of the bath. “Thank you.” Kyungsoo cocked his head to the side, confused. “For all of that. It was good. So good.”

“Would you-” He paused, looked at Jongin for a few moments. “Would you be interested in doing it again?” Jongin nodded quickly, smiling. “Good. I would be horribly disappointed if you said no.” Jongin laughed, as Kyungsoo led him out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. “Go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Kyungsoo kissed him once. “Go.” Jongin smiled, wrapped a hand around his waist. “ _Go_ , Jongin. Bed. Now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I-” Jongin cut off, made a quiet noise in his throat. “Do you promise?”

“I promise. I will see you tomorrow, I promise.”

***

Luhan looked up when he heard someone open the door, found the Prince standing in the doorway, watching him. When he caught Luhan’s eye, he entered the room, kicked the door shut behind him. He crossed the room slowly, came to sit across in a chair opposite Luhan’s. “I hear that you asked my father to override my order to Kyungsoo.” Luhan nodded once, didn’t deny it. There was no point; Sehun knew the truth, there was no doubt about that. “I also heard that you had a visitor in your quarters last night.” Luhan nodded once. “And you didn’t think that I might want to know about that? You didn’t think I might want to know that my future husband was in-”

“Oh, right, because you care so much about my safety.” Luhan winced internally at how harsh his voice was. “Look, Sehun, we both know that the only reason you want me safe is because you know that our parents want us to be married, you know that if something happens to end this arrangement, then you are going to be the one suffering for it.” Sehun rolled his eyes but didn’t get a chance to speak before Luhan interrupted. “I appreciate your attempt at kindness, I will admit that. It is far more than you have given me for the last two weeks.”

“Luhan.”

“Sehun.” He spat the word viciously. “I am not happy to be here. You know that. The least you could do is attempt to be kind to me. You have done none of that. You have not so much as tried to make me happy. And for that, I resent you.” He crossed one leg over the other, glaring at the man across from him. “The few times that I have so much as seen you, you have done nothing but criticize and patronize me. I, at least, have tried to take an interest in your country’s politics, I have tried to help you win this war that you’ve gotten yourself locked into. And I will win you this war, if you would just let me do it. But you haven’t, because you can’t handle the fact that I know more about war strategy, and also Sivalian history, than you do.”

Sehun shot him a look. “What did I tell you, about your mouth? It is going to do you no favors.”

“Really? Because, as I understand it, my mouth has gotten me a very good relationship with your parents, and the Commander of your Armies. The only person that my mouth hasn’t gotten me a decent relationship with, your Highness, is you.” Luhan leaned forward. “Which, my darling, seems to indicate to me that it isn’t my _mouth_ that’s the problem.” Oh, and honestly, the opportunity was too good. “In fact, I don’t think that my mouth has ever caused a problem. It is quite good at resolving them, or so I’ve been told.”

That agitated him, clearly. Perhaps it had been a mistake. Oh well; no going back now. “Shut your mouth, Luhan.” Luhan gazed at him, didn’t say a word. “How did you know that the damn assassin was there?”

Luhan looked at him for a few moments, before he spoke quietly. “I’ve been avoiding assassins for more than twenty years, now. You get a feel for it.” He frowned. “But we both know that that wasn’t the answer you wanted. You want to know how I could sense him, and you couldn’t. You want to know how I heard what you said to Kyungsoo, the day I arrived.”

All at once, it seemed to click in Sehun’s head. He leaned backwards, understanding blossoming on his face. “You’re god-touched.” Luhan nodded slowly, eyes flashing a bright blue for a split second. “You have a shard of the spirit of a god buried in your soul.” Another slow nod. Sehun exhaled slowly, then closed his eyes. When he opened them, his iris’ were a soft white-silver. Luhan gasped quietly, fingers clenching on the arm of his chair.

“You- you’re one?”

“I am.” He bowed his head. When he looked up again, the white was gone, faded back into its normal color. “I thought I was the only one.” He murmured the words, then rose to his feet. “I am sorry, for the way I treated you.” Without another word, he left the room, leaving Luhan alone. Luhan sighed quietly, then got to his feet, followed after him. He caught up to Sehun a few moments later, grabbed him by the elbow, and turned him around. “What do you-”

“Tell Kyungsoo to do what I said.” Sehun shook his head quickly. “Sehun, you are going to get these people killed, you are going to lose your Army, your people, your whole country. I can help you, I can help you win this war, but only if you get off your high fucking horse and let me _help_.” Sehun rolled his eyes, and Luhan grabbed him, forcing him to meet his gaze. “So much fucking pride, and how’s that going to end? In pain and death and fire. And your people will have no one to blame except for their Crown fucking Prince.”

***

“I’m surprised you came.” Luhan didn’t grace that with a response, as he came to sit opposite Sehun, face passive. “What with how things ended the last time we spoke.” Luhan raised an eyebrow, still not speaking. There was something in his eyes that Sehun didn’t like, but he didn’t comment on it. He watched Luhan closely, as he picked at the food in front of him; he wasn’t looking at Sehun, kept his eyes on his plate. That bothered Sehun, for some reason that he really couldn’t identify, but he didn’t say a word.

A few minutes passed in silence, before he snapped. He set his fork down with a rather loud noise, and Luhan jumped, gaze snapping up to meet his. He raised an eyebrow, smirking – he knew exactly what was going through Sehun’s head. “You’re awfully quiet, tonight.”

Luhan cocked his head to the side in thought, swallowing a laugh. “I thought you preferred that I kept my mouth shut, your Highness.” Sehun sighed quietly, ran a hand through his hair. “I thought that you were of the belief that my mouth is only going to cause problems for me, that it wasn’t going to do me any favors.”

“Luhan.”

“Yes, your Highness?”

Sehun sighed again, put his head in his hands. “Stop calling me that.” Luhan laughed quietly but fell silent when Sehun spoke again. “I- what I meant, by the things that I said, was that your attitude would cause problems for you. I was not trying to say that you-”

“That I need to keep quiet when I’m around his royal Highness, Crown Prince Sehun?”

“That’s exactly what I’m not trying to say.” Luhan laughed softly, leaned back in his seat, hands in his lap. “It was not my intention to offend you. I merely thought you might want to know-”

Luhan cut him off. “You cannot change who I am. You cannot change the way that I act, the way that I speak. I will say the things that I wish to say.” He placed his napkin on the table, upper lip curling in distaste. “We might be getting married, yes, but the fact of the matter is, I am not one of your people, I do not care for the ways of your people speak, I do not care for the games that your people play. I will not make myself into one of your people.” Sehun exhaled slowly, nostrils flaring. “I will not, as you say, _watch my mouth_ , for the same reason that I will not wear those clothes. I am not one of Sivalia’s people; I am a member of the royal family of Eliria. That is who I am; you cannot change that, your parents cannot change that, your people cannot change that.”

“Yet you will be the King of Sivalia.”

“I will be. But they will know where I am from, they already know where I am from, we cannot hide that from them, I would not hide it from them even if you asked me to.” He paused, considering Sehun for a few moments. “My place as the King of Sivalia and my place as a Prince of Eliria are not mutually exclusive; I can be both. In fact, I think you’ll find that my background in Eliria will benefit your country. It would have already, if you would let me win this war for you.”

“Drop it.” Sehun crossed his arms over his chest, fixing Luhan with an angry gaze. “You are not a King yet; I will not give you that control.” Luhan laughed quietly. “I know you don’t want this. I know that you-”

“You don’t know _shit_ about me.” Luhan stood quickly, hands landing on the table. “You know absolutely nothing about me, about my life, about how I feel. So don’t try to tell me that you know what I do or do not want. Trust me, you don’t.” He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Sehun alone at the table.

Jongin was waiting in the hallway, hands clasped behind his back. He followed Luhan back to his quarters without speaking; he could see Luhan’s fury, it was written across his face, he wasn’t trying to hide it. “Any word from the King?” Jongin shook his head once. “Pity. Did you make sure that it was clear that I was the one who wanted to speak to him, that it is not my darling betrothed or his parents that want to see him?”

“Yes, my Prince.”

“Then I suppose there is nothing more we can do.” He walked to the window, gazing out over the plains. “All Sehun knows about Zitao is that he tried to kill me. The King has been busy, he hasn’t had time to deal with him. But the fact of the matter is, he was once a member of the Iron Crows, he once served the Crown of Eliria, he once served my mother, my father, my brothers, and me. And now, he has elected to leave the service of the my family, and instead decided to serve the Dark Ravens and the Black King of Eishta.” Jongin nodded along with him. “Send word to my brother. Tell him what happened.”

“Yes, my Prince.” Jongin paused. “Your mother-”

“No. If Kris wants to tell her, then he may, but you will send word to him and him alone. No one else. Do you understand?” Jongin nodded. Luhan looked at him for a few moments, then frowned. He came forward, grabbed Jongin by the jaw, and tipped his head to the side. “Jongin.”

“My Prince?”

“Did someone _bite_ you?” Jongin flushed a bright red, tried to duck away, but Luhan held him in place, eyes filled with concern. He looked at Jongin, waited a few moments, before he spoke again. “Was it consensual biting?” Jongin nodded once, looking like he’d rather be anywhere other than here. “You’re sure?” Another quick nod. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with your job.” He released him and stepped away. “That’s why you were late?”

“No.” Luhan raised an eyebrow. “I- yes. He- we were-”

“Don’t scar me with the details.” Jongin nodded quickly, bowed his head. “But you’re…he’s not hurting you?” Jongin shook his head quickly. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“I would never, your Highness.”

***

Kyungsoo woke to the sound of someone knocking on his door. He rose to his feet, and crossed the room. He tugged it open, to reveal Jongin standing on the other side, face stoic. When he saw Kyungsoo, he offered him a tiny smile, waited until Kyungsoo stepped aside before he entered the room. “I have to talk to you.” Kyungsoo nodded once, closed the door before turning to Jongin. “I- Prince Luhan doesn’t want me to tell you this, he will be furious with me if he finds out that I am asking this of you, but he is in danger, more danger than he is willing to admit to you or to Sehun or to anyone other than me. It makes me ill, to tell you of this, but I will not risk his life for the sake of his secret.” Kyungsoo nodded once, took Jongin’s hand, and led him to a chair. Jongin sat down quickly, trembling. “The assassin that came for him is from Eliria. His name is Zitao. He- at one point in time, he served the Iron Crow.”

Kyungsoo frowned, but knelt in front of Jongin, hands still holding his. “I thought-”

“He left Eliria – abandoned his squadron in battle – and fled to Eishta, because people were starting to talk, about him, about his…a gift of his.”

“A gift?”

Jongin exhaled quietly, eyebrows drawing together in frustration. “You- you’ve heard about the god-touched.” Kyungsoo nodded once. “Luhan is one of the god-touched, one of the few of Elirian origin that still exist.” Jongin’s fingers squeezed around Kyungsoo’s, and he made a quiet noise in his throat. “I- I am, too, if it matters.” Kyungsoo nodded, crawled into Jongin’s lap slowly. “Zitao is hell-touched.”

“That one I don’t believe I’m familiar with.”

“The opposite of god-touched. Instead of having a god’s spirit in their soul, they have the spirit of a demon.” Kyungsoo nodded slowly, hands resting on Jongin’s shoulders gently. “He thinks he can defend himself. He thinks he doesn’t need protection, because of what he is. And he’s wrong, I know he’s wrong, and I am almost sure that the King of Eishta knows it too. And if he does, then Luhan is in more danger than he’d like to think. He’s going to get himself hurt, or killed, and I will not sit back and let that happen.”

“I can assign him a full guard.”

Jongin shook his head quickly. “I want you to let him choose who’s in his guard. If you don’t, then he’ll be furious. He already is, because every choice has been taken from him since he got here. Give him a choice. Please.” Kyungsoo nodded quickly, then leaned down to kiss Jongin gently. “Thank you. Thank you, for doing this.” Another nod, and Jongin hummed, as Kyungsoo kissed along his jaw. “I-I- Kyungsoo-”

“Jongin, shut up and let me kiss you.”

“Kyungsoo-” He cut off when Kyungsoo kissed him on the mouth again, then made a soft noise. “Luhan knows.” That got Kyungsoo’s attention. He pulled backwards quickly, eyes flashing, and Jongin rushed to explain. “About- well. Not that it’s _you_ , but he knows that I’ve been, you know… _seeing_ someone, if you will. He knows that something’s up. He saw the- the bite mark.” Kyungsoo took a deep breath, then brushed his thumb over the bite mark on Jongin’s neck. “But he doesn’t know that it’s you. I’m sure he thinks I’m sleeping with one of the other servants.” Kyungsoo still looked concerned, but he kissed Jongin again. “Are you-”

“Stop talking.” Jongin nodded, as Kyungsoo kissed him, mouth moving to latch onto Jongin’s neck gently. “I won’t mark you anymore.” Jongin whined softly and Kyungsoo chuckled quietly into the curve of his shoulder. “I know you want me to. But I don’t know if I’d be able to keep my hands off of you if you were walking around with my mark on you, and I don’t think you want that. I don’t think you want anyone to know about us.” Jongin made another quiet noise. “You’re precious, you know. Absolutely lovely.” He nosed at his skin, before ducking down to kiss at his collar bone, holding his shirt out of the way.

“Kyungsoo-”

They both startled when someone knocked on the door. Kyungsoo was off of Jongin’s lap in seconds, pulling him to his feet, before he crossed the room, to the door. He pulled it open, a strange look crossing his face. “I- Prince Joonmyun. What can I do for you?”

“Hello, Kyungsoo.” Jongin stilled, shoulders going tense. That was a voice he hadn’t wanted to have to hear ever again. “My father sent me with a message.” He passed a piece of paper to Kyungsoo, and that was when he spotted Jongin. “Hello, Jongin.”

“Hello, your Highness.” Joonmyun watched him, with a strange look in his eyes, as Jongin left the room slowly. “Good day, your Highness, Lord Kyungsoo.” He bowed himself out of the room.

He made it maybe four steps down the hallway, before he heard Joonmyun behind him. “I thought I heard someone mention that you were here.” Jongin swallowed hard, but didn’t speak. “I really didn’t believe it. I didn’t really believe that anyone would want you to serve them, much less to come here.” Jongin wasn’t aware that they were moving until Joonmyun had backed him into the wall. “How did you convince the Prince of Eliria to let you serve him?

“He saved my life.”

“And so, you are trying to repay a debt.” Jongin nodded once. “Cute.” Jongin made a quiet noise in his throat. “Brave of you, to come here. Very brave.” His hands came up to hover just over Jongin’s jaw, close enough that he felt them, but not actually touching. “You know, my brother tried to keep me away. I think he’s trying to protect you, Jongin.” He smiled, leaned down, their faces a breath apart. “And he told me that Luhan would make me regret it, if I touched you. I saw Sehun’s nose, it still hasn’t healed.” As he trailed off, his fingertips came to rest on Jongin’s face. “But I’m not scared of some tiny, weak, useless Elirian princess.” With that, he grabbed Jongin by the jaw, holding him place. Jongin whined as Joonmyun’s grip tightened, turned bruising. “I missed this, you know. You’re so fucking _easy_ , Jongin, so easy. It was always so easy to hurt you, you let me do it, every time, don’t you?” Jongin swallowed hard, squirming to try and get free from Joonmyun’s grip. “Stay _still_ , Jongin, or I swear to the gods I will end you.” When Jongin didn’t stop squirming, he backhanded him. Jongin’s head snapped to the side, cheekbone tingling; that one would bruise, and it would bruise dark. “I told you, stay still. If you stay still, love, I won’t hurt you. Well. Too much, anyways.”

“Your Highness, please-”

“Mm? You want me to let you go?” Jongin bit back a whimper. “Yeah, you’d like that. But I think you know that I’m not going to do that. Maybe if you’d stayed still, I would have considered it. But now? Oh, no, Jongin, love, now I’ve got you where I want you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Luhan woke up way later than he had intended. Sunlight was streaming through his window, and as he sat up, he found that the room was empty. He looked around, confused, found no sign of Jongin anywhere. As he got to his feet, he rubbed sleep from his eyes, trying to figure out exactly how late it was. And where in the hell was Jongin? He got dressed slowly, still half-asleep, still hung up on the fact that Jongin wasn’t here, very clearly hadn’t been here since he’d left Luhan for the night.

When he was suitably clothed, Luhan left the room, made his way down the hall and into Sehun’s office. Sehun looked up at him, clearly upset to have been interrupted, but when he saw the look on Luhan’s face, the anger faded into confusion. “Do you know where Jongin is?” Sehun cocked his head to the side in thought, then shook his head once. “He wasn’t in my room when I woke up. I have no idea where he is. It isn’t like him to be late.” Sehun held still, eyes filled with concern. “Are you listening to me?”

“I am.” Sehun ran a hand through his hair. “Chanyeol?”

“My Prince?” Chanyeol stuck his head in the door.

“Any idea where Jongin might be?” Chanyeol shook his head once. “Find him.” Chanyeol nodded, then slipped out of the room. “He has not left the palace, I can assure you of that. I would know if he had.” Luhan shot him a look and he raised his hands in surrender. “I will find him, you know.” Luhan rolled his eyes, and started towards the door, but stopped when Sehun spoke again. “Luhan, I want to apologize to you.” Luhan made a quiet noise, before turning to face Sehun.

“Did you finally realize that I was right, about your war? Or have you had a change of heart, about my mouth?” Sehun sighed quietly, put his head in his hands as Luhan came to stand in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. “You have been an absolute monstrosity of a human being since I got here. I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, and frankly, your Highness, I couldn’t care less. You can’t take the throne until you’re married, I understand that. I also understand that you are only marrying me because I was your only royal option, and the _nobles_ just don’t do it for the Prince of Sivalia, do they?” Luhan paused, breathing heavily. “But I, unlike you, it seems, understand basic human decency. You do not have to love me, but I would really, _really_ appreciate it if you would at least attempt to be kind to me, and maybe, in time, to at least pretend to like me.”

“Luhan-”

“A little bit of kindness was all I wanted, from you. I have been ripped away from my home, my family, my way of life, and sent here, to a place that is completely foreign to me, to live with and eventually _marry_ a stranger. _Kindness_ is the least that I could fucking ask for.”

“I know. That is why I am trying to apologize to you.” They both froze when a knock fell on the door. Sehun sighed softly. “Come in.” A pause, then the door opened. Luhan turned, found another many standing in the doorway. He had Sehun’s eyes; the brother, then- 

The brother that had been sent away because Sehun had been trying to protect Jongin. All at once, it clicked into place, and Luhan made a hushed noise of fury in his throat. “Joonmyun? What are you- when did you get home?”

“Mm, last night.” Joonmyun crossed the room slowly. “Apologies, I don’t believe I know you. You must be Luhan. The betrothed.” Luhan nodded once. “Welcome to Sivalia, I suppose.” He very clearly wasn’t interested in Luhan’s presence. “Kyungsoo is looking for you – well. I think he’s looking for your servant; I can’t imagine why, though.” Something else clicked into place, and Luhan exhaled, frustration coloring the noise. “Sehun, tell me about the war. I want to know what I missed.”

Luhan spoke before Sehun had the chance. “Your troops are trapped in a deadlock, it will not be broken until either Sivalia runs out of money, or decides to make a move. Sehun, of course, doesn’t believe that. I have been trying to convince him that he would probably rather make a move and win then wait to run out of money and lose. But it’s just a thought.” Without another word, Luhan turned on his heel and left the room. As he closed the door, he heard Sehun say something to Joonmyun – it sounded aggressive.

Kyungsoo was waiting in the hallway, concern written all over his face. Luhan shot him a look and he straightened. “I suppose you’re after Jongin as well.” Kyungsoo tried to fake confusion, but it didn’t work. “Given that you are, you know, screwing him.”

“I- what?”

Luhan rolled his eyes. “Don’t play dumb. I saw his bite mark, I talked to him about it, and, most importantly, I saw the way that you looked at me when the door open. You wanted to know if I’d found him, if I knew where he was, because you haven’t seen him either, and you’re concerned. You are worried that something happened to him.”

“I was with him last night. And, ah, before much of anything could happen, Joonmyun came to see me, with a message. When Jongin left, he did not come back; I figured that you had sent for him, until I heard you tell Sehun that you hadn’t seen him either.”

“Come with me.” Luhan led Kyungsoo down the hallway. “Where are Joonmyun’s quarters?” Kyungsoo pointed, and Luhan went, faster than Kyungsoo could keep pace with him. “I imagine that he did not tell you about the Prince that he served before me.” Kyungsoo shook his head as he came to stand beside Luhan outside the door. “You will have to ask him.” Without another word, he pushed the door open and walked into Joonmyun’s quarters.

He saw the body on the bed before he had bothered to take anything else in. He crossed the room quickly, and crawled onto the bed, shook Jongin’s shoulder gently. “Jongin?”

Jongin blinked his eyes open, pain creasing his face. “I- your Highness?” He sat up slowly, wincing as he went, looked around quickly. When his eyes found Kyungsoo, fear filled his eyes, but before Kyungsoo could speak, Jongin had. “What are you- how did you find me?”

“Jongin, what happened to you?” Jongin made a quiet noise, ran his hands over his face, trying to pull himself together. 

“I-I- I was with Kyungsoo last night, but we were…interrupted, and it was Joonmyun, and I left, because, you know, it’s a little bit suspicious to see him and I in a room together, but Joonmyun followed me, and he, ah, well, he dragged me back here and- and he- I can’t talk about this.” A moment passed, as Jongin inhaled, clearly struggling to breath. Kyungsoo crawled onto the bed, ignoring the look that Luhan sent his way, and wrapped his arms around Jongin’s shoulders, pulled him into a hug. “He- he- well. It’s pretty obvious, what he did.”

“I am going to kill him.” Jongin made a quiet noise. “I am going to rip his intestines out of his body and hang him with them.” Luhan got to his feet; Kyungsoo followed slowly, pulling Jongin with him. He helped Jongin to his feet, holding him against his body. “Get him back to his room. Now.” Kyungsoo nodded quickly. Luhan turned, found Joonmyun in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. He let Kyungsoo slip past, gaze locked on Luhan. “You little-”

“I think it is quite lovely, you know, how much you love him. How much you want to protect him. The lengths that you went to, to keep him safe from me.” Joonmyun smiled and started towards Luhan. “My brother sent me away, you know, to try and keep me away from Jongin. I’m assuming you asked him to do that.”

“No.” Joonmyun raised an eyebrow. “It was the one decent think he’s done since I got here.” That drew a cackle from Joonmyun. “Jongin is my servant, he is no longer yours. You cannot touch him.”

“Is that so? Because I seem to remember touching him quite a lot, not that long ago.”

“Shut your fucking mouth. He serves Eliria, as you very well know.”

“Ah, but he is Sivalian by blood. He owes his obedience to my family, and, by extension, me. He owes his loyalty to me, not to you, and I think it’s high time that he remembered his place.”

“He is not a dog that needs to be trained. He is a human being. You have hurt him, and that is unacceptable.” Joonmyun laughed, a moment before Luhan punched him, hard, in the face. He reeled backwards, growling in his throat. “Touch him again, and I’ll kill you.”

***

“Sehun’s fiancé punched me _in the face_ , Mother!”

Sehun sighed quietly. “Joonmyun.” Joonmyun turned on him, eyes flashing. “He is my betrothed. You will not speak of him with that tone.” Joonmyun growled, but before he could speak, Sehun spoke again. “Second, I am quite sure that Luhan had a reason for doing what he did. He generally does not throw punches without good reason.” Joonmyun snorted, whipped around when the doors to the throne room opened. Luhan entered, Kyungsoo and Jongin behind him. “I would, however, quite like to hear what he has to say about the matter.”

Luhan knew that everyone, even the King and Queen, took note of the fact that Kyungsoo very intentionally placed himself between Jongin and Joonmyun. As Luhan made his way across the room, he brushed past Joonmyun and Sehun, going straight for the throne. “Your Majesties,” he paused, shot a look at Joonmyun, who bared his teeth in response. “all due respect to your son, but he deserved what he got.” The Queen frowned, brows furrowing. “Yes, I did punch him, I will admit to that without hesitation. But he hurt my servant. He had it coming.”

“I would _never_ -”

Luhan snarled as he turned to glare at Joonmyun. “You _raped_ him. Shut your fucking mouth, or I’ll shut it for you. Permanently.” Joonmyun looked ready to say something, but Luhan cut him off. “He is not _yours_. He does not owe you anything. He does not serve your family, he does not serve you, he serves me, and me alone. You did what you did because you are a malicious, ill-tempered piece of shit.”

“I will not let you stand there and insult me-”

“Joonmyun.” The King got Joonmyun’s attention. “Leave us.” Joonmyun didn’t look like he liked the idea. “Get out of my sight, before _I_ punch you in the face.” After a few moments, Joonmyun nodded and left the room, shooting a glance at Jongin before he did. The King leaned forward in his throne, then, his eyes on Jongin, who had his head down. He was hovering at Kyungsoo’s shoulder, looking like he wanted out. “Is what Luhan told me true?” After a moment, Jongin nodded quickly. He didn’t trust his words, not now. “Kyungsoo, I want a full guard stationed in that wing of the palace. Joonmyun is allowed nowhere near him.” Kyungsoo bowed his head. “And see to it that Luhan’s orders on the war are followed. I’d like to win this one. You’re all dismissed.” He leaned backwards, as Kyungsoo shepherded Jongin to the door. Luhan and Sehun left slowly; Sehun was stewing over the revocation of his order.

“Well, you got what you wanted.” Luhan made a soft noise in his throat but didn’t comment. “I suppose something good did come out of the situation, for you, at least.” Luhan still didn’t say anything, as he walked with Sehun. “Are you really not going to speak to me?”

“You told me Sehun had been sent away. And that he would never lay a finger on Jongin.” Sehun sighed quickly but nodded anyway. “Yet here we are. Your brother has returned to the palace, and ruined Jongin’s life. Again.” Sehun opened his mouth to speak, but Luhan didn’t give him the chance. He brushed past Sehun, and walked into his quarters, closing the door firmly in Sehun’s face.

“Luhan, please.” Sehun’s voice was muffled, behind the door. Luhan’s upper lip twitched in annoyance, but he stayed where he was. “I am sorry. I did not believe that he would do this, I didn’t know that he was home until this morning. Surely, you understand that this isn’t my fault, that I did everything I could to stop this.” Luhan bit down on his lower lip but didn’t speak. “I- I did not want this. I know how much you care about him, I know how much his safety means to you. I know that he is the only person here that you trust. I will do everything in my power to make sure that nothing like this ever happens again, that I promise you.”

Luhan walked away after that. He heard Sehun speak again, but at that point, he was too far away to make out any of what he said. He entered his bedroom without a word, stripping out of his clothes as he went, before crawling into bed. He was numb.

Hours passed without sleep.

He was very aware of the door opening when Jongin came in the next morning. Luhan sat up slowly, found Jongin emerging from the closet, clothes in his hands. He wasn’t looking at Luhan, didn’t acknowledge him, even when he set the clothes on the dresser. “Jongin.” He looked up quickly, eyes wide. “You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to.”

“All due respect, my Prince, but this is the best thing I could be doing right now. It takes my mind off of…of the- you know.” He exhaled quietly, brushed past Luhan to make the bed. “So. Now you know that it was Kyungsoo.” Luhan nodded once, as he stripped, then began to dress. “Now the entire palace knows about me and Kyungsoo, or so it feels like. I would not be surprised if Joonmyun decided to have me executed for it.”

“I would never let him.” Jongin made a quiet noise of disbelief in his throat. “Nor would his parents. Or his brother. They sided with me, and with you.” He knew exactly what Jongin would say. “I know what Sehun said. And I know that he was wrong about that.”

“Then why should I trust what I’m being told now?”

Jongin was terrified. After a few moments, Luhan came to stand in front of him, holding his gaze. “Breathe.” It took a few seconds, but Jongin obeyed, then bowed his head. “If he tries to touch you again,” Luhan paused, as he took Jongin’s wrist, pulled his sleeve back to reveal the white tattoo on his wrist. “then I give you permission to use your gift to stop him. And if anyone has anything to say about it, I will handle them. You understand?”

“Yes, my Prince.”

***

Zitao laughed quietly when he heard the door to his cell open. He looked up slowly, smile widening when he saw Kyungsoo standing in the doorway. After a few moments, he spoke, voice quiet. “Well, yours is certainly not a face I thought I’d ever see again.” Kyungsoo didn’t say a word, merely gazed down at him. “Let me guess. Here to have me killed for coming after the Prince?”

“Not quite.” Kyungsoo entered the cell, crouched in front of Zitao. “For some reason, Luhan wants you alive. I won’t pretend to know why, because I don’t.” After a moment, he grabbed Zitao by the wrist, turned his arm over to reveal the mark on his forearm. “You know that Luhan knows what you are, I hope?” Zitao snorted but didn’t answer the question. “And I hope you understand that as soon as Sehun finds out, you are dead.”

“He won’t tell anyone.” Zitao smiled, head tipping back to hit the wall. “He’s not that stupid.” Kyungsoo tried not to let his confusion show on his face, but it very clearly didn’t work. “He knows what happens if I die; that’s why I’m still alive. He didn’t kill me because he’s trying to protect himself, and his family, and Sehun, and everyone here.” He laughed again, eyes flashing gold for a second. “He’s sentimental that way.”

Kyungsoo was still gripping his arm, and when Zitao finished speaking, his grip tightened. “You are a stain on this world.” Zitao snorted, but didn’t say anything. Kyungsoo’s fingers brushed over the mark, nails dragging over the rigid scars beneath it, and discomfort blossomed in Zitao’s eyes. “Hurts?” Zitao didn’t grant him a reply as Kyungsoo’s fingers traced up his forearm. “I do not understand why you believed that you would be able to get to him without anyone knowing that you were here. I do not understand why you thought that the Prince would not find you.” Zitao merely smiled at him, eyes glistening in the darkness. There were still traces of gold, in the depths, glinting softly. “You- you knew that he would find you.”

“I did.” Zitao nodded once. “I knew that he would know I was watching, I knew that he knew I was following, I knew that he knew exactly what I was doing. I knew what he would do, when he found that that it was me; I knew he wouldn’t kill me, I knew that he would lock me up in here until he figured out what I was doing.” He cocked his head to the side in thought. “Have you figured it out yet, Kyungsoo? Do _you_ know why I’m here? Luhan doesn’t, not yet; do you?”

“I’m starting to get an idea.” Kyungsoo didn’t elaborate. He pulled away from Zitao. “I hope you’re pleased with yourself. I hope you’re happy with what you’ve done.” Zitao didn’t say a word. “You’ve endangered all of us. Every last one.” Zitao scoffed quietly. “You do not understand yet, the extent of the damage that you have done, but you will. You will learn.”

“I think you will find, Kyungsoo, that we, unlike the god-touched, are more than capable of taking care of ourselves. We know how to protect ourselves from mere humans, we know how to keep our secret safe.”

“Be that as it may, you are a risk to our people. If I had any say, I would kill you myself; you will get us all killed.”

***

“Sehun.”

He looked up quickly, sighing when he saw Luhan standing in the doorway. “Are you here to chew me out again, about things that I have no control over? Or perhaps about how you’re never going to conform to my country’s culture, even though I have never _once_ asked that of you. Or _perhaps_ you’re here to bitch at me about how you’ve been given no choice, how you have no control-”

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry, but if you’re going to continue being an asshole, I’ll just leave.” Sehun went quiet, eyes on Luhan. “Are you done?” After a few moments, Sehun nodded. “I am sorry for the way that I have spoken to you and the things that I have said to you. You know I am not happy in my situation, you know that I do not want to be here, but that does not excuse the things that I have said to you.” He crossed his arms over his chest, shifting uncomfortably in place. “So,” he paused, chewing on his lower lip, “I am sorry.”

Sehun bowed his head, hands resting flat on the desk in front of him. “Thank you.” He looked up at Luhan after a few moments. “I am not upset, about what you said. You were perfectly valid, in everything that you said to me. I have been awful to you.” Luhan started to shake his head slowly, but Sehun spoke before Luhan could say anything. “I have been. And I am sorry about that.”

Luhan looked away quickly, and Sehun could see the storm brewing behind his eyes, could read the anger in the clench of his jaw. “I also wanted to- to thank you. For trying to protect Jongin. And for…for standing up for me, to your brother.” Sehun raised an eyebrow, and Luhan huffed out a humorless laugh. “Your mother came to see me. I- thank you.” Sehun nodded once, then stood up and walked slowly towards Luhan.

“If Joonmyun touches him again, if he goes anywhere near Jongin again, I won’t stop you from doing whatever you believe is necessary.” Luhan bowed his head in thanks, then jumped when Sehun stepped closer, a hand sliding under Luhan’s jaw. “In fact, I’ll hold him down while you beat the shit out of him.” Luhan swallowed hard, gazing up at Sehun with wide eyes. “He has no right to touch Jongin. And he needs to learn that. If there’s anyone who can get it through his thick skull, it’s you.” Luhan laughed quietly, trying not to let his discomfort show on his face. “I know better than anyone that you can throw quite the punch.” Another laugh, this one louder than before, and Sehun smiled. “How are you? And how is Jongin? I know he’s probably not _good_ by any means, but is he…better, than he was the last time that I spoke you?”

Luhan exhaled slowly, nostrils flaring. “He- he’s better. We haven’t talked about it. He doesn’t want to talk about it, and I’m not going to push him into it.” Sehun nodded slowly. “I- this is very odd.” Sehun didn’t say anything, merely held Luhan’s gaze. After a few seconds, Luhan’s hands came up to press against the sides of Sehun’s neck. “I wanted to hate you, so much. But now that you’ve…well. Now that I’ve gotten to know you, a little bit, now that we’ve actually talked, I don’t hate you nearly as much as I did.”

Sehun gazed down at him silently for a few seconds, fingers pressing gently at Luhan’s jaw. After a moment, his irises went silver-white. Luhan’s flashed blue and Sehun chuckled quietly. “Those are gorgeous.” Luhan blushed a soft pink and Sehun laughed again. “Sorry.”

Luhan let out an uncomfortable laugh, then smiled. “I- it’s okay.” They stayed quiet for a few seconds. “Sehun?” Sehun hummed softly, acknowledging the question. “I’m going to do something really, _really_ stupid.” Sehun nodded once. He held still, breath catching in his throat as Luhan rose up on his toes, to press his mouth to Sehun’s.

He pulled back a split second later, blushing furiously. He looked away quickly, looking more uncomfortable than Sehun had ever seen him. Sehun held still for a few moments, then slid his hands under Luhan’s jaw again, backing him into the wall. His eyes were still white, and when Luhan’s back hit the wall, his eyes went blue again, and stayed that way. “Luhan.” Luhan looked up at him, eyes wide. “I think I’m also going to do something really stupid.”

“What?”

Sehun didn’t bother to explain before he kissed Luhan gently. Luhan made a quiet noise, but didn’t try to push him away, hands moving to Sehun’s shoulder, gripping his shirt in his fingers. When Sehun pulled back, Luhan was panting quietly, eyes wide and glowing. “Are you okay?” Luhan nodded quickly, pressed another quick kiss to Sehun’s mouth, before withdrawing. “We should probably talk-” Luhan cut him off by kissing him again. This time, his hand moved, fingers tangling into the hair at the back of Sehun’s head. “Luhan-”

“Shut up.” Luhan’s grip tightened as he kissed Sehun once more. Sehun sighed softly, against Luhan’s mouth, before placing his hands on Luhan’s shoulders and pushing away from him. “Sehun-”

“We need to talk. Not about this, I don’t think there’s much to talk about, in regards to us, but we need to talk about Kyungsoo and Jongin.” After a few seconds, Luhan relented, rolling his eyes. “You know that if word gets out that they’re…doing whatever, then Kyungsoo loses his position and Jongin gets killed. I can protect him from a lot, but I can’t protect him from that.”

“I know.” Luhan looked away. Sehun ran his fingers through Luhan’s hair, then wrapped an arm around his shoulders, led him to one of the chairs in the room. He sat down and pulled Luhan into his lap. Luhan squirmed, uncomfortable, before he finally settled, sitting on one of Sehun’s thighs, his legs thrown over Sehun’s lap. “I trust Kyungsoo and Jongin to be discreet.”

“As do I.” Luhan hummed quietly, hands resting on Sehun’s face. “But you know that Joonmyun won’t let this go. He knows about them, and once he figures out that he’s never going to get his hands on Jongin, he’ll go out of his way to ruin him. Or to get Kyungsoo out of his way.”

“They won’t stop seeing each other.”

“I know that.” Sehun turned his head, kissed Luhan gently. “I’ll talk to Kyungsoo. I’ll figure it out.” Luhan nodded once, kissed Sehun again, wrapped his arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Wow, you must have really changed your mind about me.” Luhan laughed quietly. The last of the blue had faded from his eyes. Sehun sucked in a sharp breath as Luhan moved to straddle his hips. “What are you doing?”

Luhan smiled at him, cupping Sehun’s jaw in his hands. “I thought you were supposed to be smart, your Highness.” Sehun snorted. “What does it look like I’m doing?” Luhan didn’t give him a chance to answer, he merely kissed him again, before pulling away. “You want to do this here, or would you rather go upstairs?”

“Depends. What’s _this_?” Luhan cackled quietly, then rolled his hips. Sehun gasped, then pulled Luhan down for another kiss. “Yeah, okay, let’s go upstairs, let’s go to my room.” He wrapped his hands around Luhan’s hips, then stood, lifting Luhan with him, holding him against his body. “Kiss me.” Luhan smiled, pulled back just slightly to kiss Sehun gently, sucking on his lower lip. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Shut up.” Luhan bit at Sehun’s lower lip, one hand clinging to Sehun’s shoulders, the other one tangling in his hair. “Shut up.” Sehun laughed, carried Luhan across the room. Luhan chuckled, tugging at his hair, and after a moment, Sehun growled, pinned Luhan to the wall.

“Stop that.” Luhan giggled, tugging once more. “ _Luhan_.”

“ _Make_ me.”

Sehun released Luhan’s waist, one hand sliding into his hair, the other one on his jaw. “Oh, you always have to make it a fight, don’t you?” Luhan cackled, as Sehun leaned down to kiss his jaw, nipping gently. “Always a fucking _battle_.”

“Oh, you know it.” Luhan’s head tipped back as Sehun mouthed at his neck. “But you like me like that, don’t you?”


	5. Chapter 5

When Sehun woke, he could feel Luhan’s fingers on his back, tracing delicately over the pattern of scars that decorated the skin there. He stayed still, silent, for a few moments, before he rolled, twisted around to face Luhan, who was smiling. “Good morning, sunshine.” Sehun snorted at the nickname, pressed a kiss to Luhan’s mouth. “Yours is pretty. Your mark, I mean.” Sehun bowed his head, didn’t speak. He wrapped a hand around Luhan’s hip, dragged him closer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one that’s that pretty.” He paused, ran a hand through Sehun’s hair. “Did you see mine?”

“I couldn’t have missed it, sweetheart, not when my head was between your legs for-”

“Oh, gods, shut _up_ -” He cut off when Sehun kissed him. “I’m never going to hear the end of it, am I?” Sehun shook his head once, kissed Luhan again, before moving to straddle his hips, holding him down. “Did you- I mean, was that good? For you?” Sehun nodded, running his fingers through Luhan’s hair, tugging his head back gently. “Are you sure? You- I mean- you haven’t said much.”

Sehun smiled, kissed Luhan on the forehead gently, before he spoke, voice soft. “I’m quiet, in the mornings.” He sat up straight, hands resting on Luhan’s chest. “You’re gorgeous.” Luhan flushed red, hands coming up to hide his face. Sehun grabbed his wrists, and pulled them away, pressed Luhan’s palms against his hips. “Just look at you. You’re so pretty.” He slid backwards, still holding Luhan’s wrists, until he was seated between Luhan’s legs. He pressed his thighs apart, fingers running across Luhan’s mark gently. “Yours is pretty, too, sweetheart.” Luhan shook his head once, tried to cover it with his hands, but Sehun knocked them away, fingers tracing over the scars. “Almost as pretty as your face.”

“No.”

Sehun leaned down to press a kiss to the mark and Luhan whimpered, thighs flexing under Sehun’s hands. “Sweetheart, as much as I’m sure that you could crush my head between your thighs, I’d rather that you didn’t.” Luhan huffed out a laugh, squirming. “Would you care for a repeat of last night?” Luhan whined quietly, as Sehun moved to lay flat in between Luhan’s legs. He kissed the mark again and Luhan huffed out a soft noise, that transformed into a soft cry as Sehun bit down on the enter of his mark. Pain shot through his body, and that time, his thighs did slam shut. Sehun caught his leg in one hand before it crushed him, teeth still digging into Luhan’s skin. When he pulled away, Luhan was gasping for air, hips thrusting up into the air. “Yeah, you liked that, didn’t you?”

“That fucking _hurt_ , you ass.” Luhan smacked Sehun in the face lightly, then grabbed him by the hair and dragged him up to kiss him again. “Do it again.” Sehun chuckled, then reached down, to pinch right where he’d bitten. Luhan made a quiet noise, arching underneath him, rutting into his hip. “Fuck.” Sehun laughed into his mouth, then bit down on Luhan’s lower lip, hard enough that it drew blood. “Sehun-”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” Sehun braced his forearms on either side of Luhan’s head, gazing down at him with dark eyes. “You want to come?” Luhan nodded, kissed Sehun gently. “Alright.” He reached down, wrapped his fingers around Luhan’s cock, stroking gently. Luhan made a quiet, whining noise in his throat, clinging to Sehun’s shoulder. “Gods, you’re adorable-”

He cut off when he heard the bedroom door open, swearing loudly against Luhan’s mouth. He heard Chanyeol apologizing profusely from the doorway, then whipped around, glaring at him. “You’ve not been on time for the past two years. Why today, of all fucking days, do you choose to be on fucking time, you motherfucking piece of-” He went quiet when Luhan placed a hand over his mouth, sat up to face Chanyeol.

“Just do your job, Chanyeol, don’t mind us.” Chanyeol was blushing furiously, but he nodded, bowed low, and moved to the window, pulling the curtains open with deft fingers. As he went about his business, Luhan kissed Sehun once, then twice, before squirming out from under him. “I should probably be getting back to my room before Jongin gets suspicious. He’s probably already suspicious.” Sehun huffed quietly, but released Luhan, not before ducking in for one more kiss. “I’ll see you later. This evening. Dinner. You and me, in the private dining room.” Sehun nodded once, then got to his feet, passed Luhan his clothes. Luhan dressed slowly, not caring that Chanyeol kept glancing their way. He left the room shortly thereafter, made his way back to his quarters. Jongin was folding clothes in the bedroom, and he looked up quickly when Luhan entered.

“Your Highness, there you are. I was worried-”

“Your concern is touching, but unnecessary. I can take care of myself.” Jongin nodded once. “I was with Sehun.” Jongin’s gaze raked over Luhan’s body, and then nodded. “Yeah.” After a few moments of silence, Luhan stripped out of his clothes, allowed Jongin to hand him fresh ones. “You and Kyungsoo need to be careful, you know that. If you two get caught, by anyone, he will lose his job, and you will lose your life. I can protect you from Joonmyun; I cannot protect you from the law.”

“I understand, my Prince. And I- we’ve spoken, on the matter. We’re going to be careful, we won’t- no one is going to find out. I promise. And if anyone does, then I will take the consequences without complaint. I knew what I was getting into, when I decided to…to continue seeing him. I know the risks, I understand the dangers of what I am doing.”

“You like him?”

Jongin smiled. “I do.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I really do.”

“Jongin?” He looked up quickly, eyes shining dimly. Luhan could see a hint of green in them. “Be careful. Take care of yourself. If he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”

“Thank you, my Prince.” Jongin bowed his head. “And I will be.”

“And Jongin?” He looked up, startled. Luhan smiled at him, a real, genuine smile. “I’m glad that you’re happy.”

***

The moons had risen high in the sky. Three of the four were full, and the fourth was on its way – within the month, the four would all be full. They cast a dim light across the plains of Sivalia, over the front side of the mountains. The flags of the Sivalian palace were glowing softly, a stark white against the darkness of the stone.

The people of the palace, and the surrounding city, had withdrawn from the streets hours ago. The only activity that they’d seen, from where they were positioned, was guard patrols making their way through the streets, along the walls of the palace. It had been hours since they’d moved, had remained crouched in their positions, high up in a tree, since before the sun had set. Thankfully, the cold season hadn’t set in yet; residual heat from the long day lingered in the air.

“Are we sure that this will work?” Jongdae spoke quietly, voice barely audible. Baekhyun shot him a look, but didn’t reply, kept his eyes on the palace. “We have no reason to believe that the Prince will even be where we want him to be.” He moved slowly, came to crouch behind Baekhyun. “And no reason to believe that he’ll be alone. We’re walking into this blind.” Baekhyun snorted quietly, but didn’t look at Jongdae. “And yes, that’s kind of what we do, but it’s one thing to walk into some noble’s home blind; it’s another to go after the Crown Prince of Sivalia and his fiancé, especially since our Hunter hasn’t been in contact since he made it to the palace. That _generally_ indicates that he’s in trouble, that it’s dangerous to follow.”

Baekhyun still hadn’t spoken, but when he did, his voice was barely more than a whisper. “That is why we have come here together, because it is more dangerous than one of us can handle.” Jongdae nodded once, watching Baekhyun carefully. “You need to relax. Everything is going to work out fine, it always does. I trust our Prince.” Jongdae opened his mouth to say something, but Baekhyun cut him off. “I meant no offense. You trust him too, I’m aware of this.”

Jongae exhaled quietly, then pressed closer to Baekhyun, fingers hovering over his back. “Did you see that?” Baekhyun nodded once. Jongdae moved without warning, to slip down the tree trunk and onto the ground. Baekhyun followed without a word, came to stand beside him. “The moon. It’s too bright, they’ll see us coming.” After a moment, Jongdae turned his gaze to the sky, eyes glowing yellow. A few seconds passed, then clouds began to gather, obscuring the moons, casting them into darkness, moments before rain started to fall from the sky. Lightning cracked across the sky for a split second, then they moved, quickly.

When they reached the palace walls, Jongdae raised his hand, and the rain ceased, though the clouds remained. He smiled at Baekhyun, then began to scale the wall, slowly.

Baekhyun followed, not far behind. When they reached the top, Jongdae paused, allowed Baekhyun to slip over the wall first, before Jongdae followed slowly. As they made their way down, Jongdae kept his eyes out for guards. He managed to spot one and flung his hand out. The guard fell down a moment later and Jongdae followed Baekhyun quickly.

They reached the front door of the palace a moment later. Baekhyun smiled, then placed a hand on the handle and pushed gently. The door swung open without a sound, and he stepped in, quiet. Jongdae glanced once more over his shoulder, before entering behind Baekhyun. The front room was empty, which concerned Jongdae, but Baekhyun didn’t seem to think anything of it. After a moment, Baekhyun moved again, led Jongdae down the hallway, and up a flight of stairs. They paused about halfway down, when Baekhyun pressed Jongdae against the wall, breath catching in his throat. He gestured, and Jongdae turned his head, spotted the guards a few doors down from where they were. Jongdae let out a quiet breath, then spoke quietly, barely more than a breath of air into Baekhyun’s hair. “Distract them.” Baekhyun raised a critical eyebrow. “Light.” Baekhyun nodded, then raised a finger. A tiny light appeared at the far end of the hallway, glowing softly. The guards didn’t notice it for a few moments, but then they spotted it, turned towards it. As soon as they did, Jongdae pulled Baekhyun through the door beside them.

As he pressed the door shut, Baekhyun placed a hand on his wrist, holding him still with barely more than a touch. Jongdae turned slowly, spotted the other people in the room. His breath locked in his chest, fingers twitching against his thigh, and he glanced at Baekhyun, who hadn’t moved, didn’t look at all concerned. When he spoke, he even sounded more confident than ever. “Hello, your Highness.” He dropped into a low, mocking bow, his hand still on Jongdae’s wrist. “Pardon the interruption.”

As Baekhyun spoke, Jongdae’s eyes moved over each individual person in the room. The Prince of Sivalia, Sehun, was sitting at the desk, one leg crossed over the other. At his left shoulder stood his fiancé, the Prince of Eliria, who looked angrier than anyone else in the room. On Sehun’s other side was Kyungsoo, the Commander of Sivalia’s Army. He was the one who spoke, voice quiet, not betraying any of what he was feeling. “Welcome to Sivalia.” Baekhyun nodded once. “I wish I could tell you that you’re more than welcome here.” No, he didn’t. “I’m sure you have questions.”

Jongdae opened his mouth to say something, but Baekhyun’s grip tightened on his wrist, and he stopped. That got Sehun’s attention, but he didn’t say anything, allowed Kyungsoo to speak for him. “Oh, let him speak, Baekhyun.” Baekhyun chuckled quietly. He didn’t release Jongdae, even when Jongdae tried to twist his arm out of his grip, without making it obvious that he was trying to break free. When Kyungsoo spoke again, he was no longer looking at Baekhyun, his eyes on Jongdae. He wasn’t speaking to either of them, however. “Chanyeol, go get Zitao for me.” One of the servants standing at the doorway nodded and slipped out. Baekhyun’s grip flexed around Jongdae’s wrist, but he didn’t speak.

A moment passed, then two, and then Baekhyun released Jongdae. Jongdae exhaled, before his hands lashed out, electricity sparking off of his fingertips, towards the people at the desk. Before he knew what was happening, the second servant, who had been standing at the door, was in front of the desk, eyes flashing a dark indigo as he appeared in between them, a split second before the lightning collided with the arm that he had raised in front of him. The white mark on his forearm glowed the same color as his eyes as it swallowed the lightning.

Baekhyun made to move, but before he could, he felt hands on his wrists, yanking him backwards and buckling cuffs around his wrists. He growled, thrashed about, but the person holding him was stronger than he was.

Jongdae had stilled, eyes wide, fear written across his face. After a moment, Kyungsoo came forward, hand brushing over the servant’s shoulder, before he came to stand in front of Jongdae. He wrapped his fingers around Jongdae’s wrists, and pressed them down, the remaining sparks vanishing a moment later, the yellow fading from his eyes. “We won’t hurt you.” Jongdae made a quiet, terrified noise in his throat, and Baekhyun growled again. “And we won’t hurt him, unless he does something to deserve it.” Kyungsoo’s grip tightened and Jongdae nodded quickly. “Come with me.” He grabbed Jongdae by the elbow and led him out of the room. The person holding Kyungsoo pushed him alongside them.

The entire way, Jongdae heard Baekhyun struggling. He went wordlessly, though, not uttering a word of complaint, even when Kyungsoo directed him into a cell. Inside, Jongdae spotted Zitao sitting in the corner, smiling serenely at them. There was blood smeared across his face, but he didn’t look hurt – not his blood, then. Jongdae to him as soon as Kyungsoo released him, flung himself into Zitao’s lap. Zitao wrapped his arms around Jongdae’s waist, holding him there, then shot Kyungsoo an unreadable look.

Baekhyun fought the entire way, had to be thrown into the room before he finally stilled, glaring at the people who had pushed him in. They didn’t so much as glance at him before they shut the door.

He turned on Jongdae as soon as he got the chance. “Are you kidding me? You dropped it, just like that? What kind of fucking _coward_ are you?”

Zitao glared at him, ran a hand into Jongdae’s hair. “Baekhyun, now is not the time-” He cut off when Baekhyun growled. “We know when we are beat. We know that sometimes, surrender can mean surviving long enough to have another chance at doing what we originally intended. All three of us learned this.”

Baekhyun growled again, eyes flashing dangerously. “Fuck you, in particular, Zitao. This is none of your business, you weren’t even there, you have no idea what happened, it is not your place to interject.” He paused. “We could have taken them-”

“Oh, yes, two Guardians – one of whom is, I’ll remind you, only half-trained – against one, two, three, four, five god-touched. Yeah, those sound like favorable odds.” Baekhyun hissed, then dropped it, sat down against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “You’ll get another chance. You know that.” After a moment, Baekhyun nodded. “And next time, you’ll have me.”

“Oh, thank the _gods_.”

Zitao shot him a look, then turned his attention back to Jongdae, who was already half-asleep in his lap. “Go to sleep. You’ve had a long day.” Jongdae hummed quietly, head resting on Zitao’s shoulder. “And I vaguely remember telling Baekhyun that you weren’t supposed to use all of your power in one day. You’re no use to anyone if you’re unconscious, or dead.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. “And I’d miss you, if you died.”

“Thanks.” Zitao huffed out a laugh, then looked at Baekhyun again.

“You should have been more careful. If you had played your cards right, yes, you could have taken them. If you had be patient and not rushed headfirst into the palace, you could have gotten to the Prince without any struggle and taken him out. If you had done what Minseok would have had you do, if he were here, you wouldn’t be down here, Jongdae wouldn’t be here, and we would have already won this war. You understand?” Baekhyun nodded once. “I’m glad. You were stupid. You deserve to be down here. He doesn’t. He followed your orders, just as he should have, and now the two of you are paying for your mistake.”

Baekhyun’s temper flared, and his eyes flashed amber. “And you? Why are you down here?”

“I made my own mistakes, Baekhyun. None of them concern the two of you. I know why I’m here, I know exactly what I did to end up in here. But, most importantly, I didn’t drag anyone down with me. I made my mistakes, I paid for them. Jongdae shouldn’t have to pay for your fuck up.” Zitao shifted, placed Jongdae on the floor gently, then crawled over to Baekhyun. He slid into his lap, straddling his hips, hands resting on his shoulders gently. “You were responsible for him. It was your job to get to the Prince, and kill him, but it was also your job, as one of Jongdae’s mentors, to keep him safe from harm. And now, you’ve gotten him into trouble, you’ve gotten him thrown into the Sivalian dungeons. I can’t imagine his mother is going to be happy.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “Don’t fucking talk to me about his mother. That woman has been on my case for the past two months, since we were assigned this job.” Zitao laughed quietly. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t find out. I’ll talk to Jongdae when he wakes up.” Zitao nodded. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I fucked this up, I’m sorry that he wound up here.”

Zitao’s hands came to rest on Baekhyun’s face. “I suppose I can forgive you. We do have a second chance.”

“Thank you.”

Zitao smiled brightly. “Of course.”

***

Kyungsoo looked up when he heard someone knocking on his bedroom door. He smiled, then got to his feet, crossed the room to pull the door open, revealing Jongin on the other side. He stepped aside, allowed Jongin in without a word, glanced down the hall to make sure no one had seen. “Hey, beautiful.” Jongin blushed a delicate pink, then wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist, pulling him backwards against his chest. “How are you? How was your day?”

Jongin smiled, as Kyungsoo twisted around to kiss his jaw gently. “It was good, I’m good, I’ve had a wonderful day, I- how about you? How are you? How’s the…the war thing?”

Kyungsoo laughed against his neck, then pulled Jongin’s shirt over his head, before kissing Jongin gently on the mouth. “I’m lovely.” He kissed Jongin again, before pushing him back gently, into the bed. Jongin sat on the edge, smiling up at Kyungsoo, who leaned down to kiss him again. He kissed him on the cheek, then down along his jawline, before moving onto his neck. “I heard about what happened with Luhan and Sehun.”

“I…yes. They seem to have settled their differences.” Kyungsoo chuckled quietly, as he crawled into Jongin’s lap, straddling his hips. “He doesn’t stay in his quarters anymore.”

“Sehun seems fascinated by his-”

Kyungsoo cut off as Jongin kissed him, fingers running through his hair, holding his head in place. Jongin kissed him hard, whimpering softly as Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open. When Kyungsoo pulled back, Jongin made a soft noise, squirming. “You, my darling, are absolutely precious.” He kissed Jongin on the forehead, then pushed him down onto the mattress. “So beautiful.” Jongin was still blushing, as Kyungsoo pushed him down onto his back. “Gorgeous.” His hands curled around Jongin’s ribcage, thumbs tracing over his nipples. Jongin made a quiet noise in his throat, a shudder running down his spine. “You like that, gorgeous?” Jongin nodded quickly, whining softly, as Kyungsoo kissed gently down the center of his chest, onto his stomach, smiling when Jongin’s abs flexed under his mouth. His hands wrapped around Jongin’s hips, holding him down against the bed. “What would you like me to do to you?”

Jongin whimpered. “I-I- I don’t know. Whatever you want. Anything. Please, Kyungsoo, just touch me. Please.” Kyungsoo smiled, fingers sliding into the waistband of Jongin’s pants. Slowly, not breaking eye contact, Kyungsoo’s fingers tugged open the ties on Jongin’s pants, very intentionally brushing his hands over Jongin’s crotch. “Kyungsoo, stop _teasing_ me.” Kyungsoo grinned up at him, eyes flashing dangerously. “Please, please, just touch me.”

“Calm down, Jongin. Relax.” His thumbs rubbed gently at Jongin’s hipbones as he squirmed underneath Kyungsoo. “Hey, _hey_ , calm down, breathe. Relax.” He kissed Jongin’s skin gently, pressed a gentle line of kisses down the center of his stomach. “Hey.” He gazed up at Jongin, chin resting on his stomach, until Jongin relaxed, going limp underneath him. “There we go.” Jongin smiled, then yelped, when Kyungsoo bit down hard on his stomach. He whined, fingers tangling in Kyungsoo’s hair, tugging hard. When Kyungsoo pulled back, Jongin had tears in his eyes. Kyungsoo smiled, then kissed the bite mark, before he tugged Jongin’s pants down, pushing his legs apart. Jongin flushed red, thighs clamping down around Kyungsoo, whining quietly in embarrassment. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, you’re so pretty.”

Jongin made a quiet noise in his throat. “Kyungsoo-”

“I’d rather you be screaming my name, but we’ll settle with just saying it, for now, I suppose.” Jongin pouted down at him, and Kyungsoo smirked. “Gorgeous. Absolutely stunning.” He wrapped his fingers around Jongin’s cock, stroking gently. “Anything I want?”

“Yes. Anything. Please, just-” He cut off when Kyungsoo put his mouth around the head of Jongin’s cock, gasping quietly, back arching. “Kyungsoo-”

“Just what, gorgeous?” Kyungsoo spoke quietly, mouth just above Jongin’s cock.

“Please don’t tease me.”

Kyungsoo smiled brightly at him. “You didn’t like that, did you?” Jongin shook his head quickly and Kyungsoo laughed, before sucking Jongin’s cock into his mouth again. Jongin moaned quietly, grip tightening in Kyungso’s hair, arching backwards again. Kyungsoo chuckled around his cock, before pulling back, grinning up at him. “Beautiful. You’re so pretty, and I love all of those little noises you make. So sweet.” He went down again, sucking gently, until he was gagging around Jongin’s cock. Jongin wailed, trying to hold himself still. When Kyungsoo pulled back, he was laughing quietly. “Can I fuck you?” Jongin’s blush darkened and Kyungsoo hummed quietly. “Can I, Jongin? Please?”

“I-” Jongin cut off, lip jutting out into a tiny pout. “I- yeah. Yes. Please.” Kyungsoo smiled brightly, moved to kiss Jongin again, gently. “Kyungsoo- kiss me again, please.” Kyungsoo obliged him, their mouths sliding together for a brief second.

“Lean back against the pillows.” Jongin went wordlessly, blushing as he gazed at Kyungsoo. “Spread your legs.” Jongin’s blush darkened, and he held still. Kyungsoo laughed, then crawled closer to him, a small pot of lube in his hand. He leaned down to kiss Jongin gently, once on his upper lip, then the corner of his mouth. “Spread your legs, gorgeous. Let me see you.” Jongin whined quietly and Kyungsoo laughed again, kissing him a few more times. “What scares you, angel? I’ll be gentle, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll go slow. I’ll be patient.”

Jongin exhaled quietly, hands coming up to cup Kyungsoo’s jaw. He kissed him gently, before releasing Kyungsoo, smiling. “You promise you’ll be slow?” Kyungsoo nodded, eyes dark and serious. “And if I tell you to stop, you’ll stop?” Another nod. “Kiss me again?” Kyungsoo smiled, then kissed him, harder than he had before, nipping at his lower lip before he pulled away. His eyes glinted in the darkness. “Okay. Okay. Go ahead.” Kyungsoo reached down gently to pull Jongin’s legs apart, before he settled in between them. “I- I trust you.”

“And I will treasure that trust forever.” He held Jongin’s gaze as his fingers slid down. “Keep your eyes on me. Breathe. Relax. I’ll take care of you.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Thank you for coming to see me.” Joonmyun bowed his head wordlessly in response, biting down on his tongue to hold back a snarky reply. It would have been easy, so easy, but he didn’t need to offend anyone, not at the moment. “I am told that several of my Ravens have been taken by your brother, by your people. Is this accurate?” Joonmyun nodded once, wordless. “Pity.”

They lapsed into a tense silence. The man lounging on the throne oozed power, in a way that made Joonmyun rather uncomfortable. He would, quite frankly, rather be anywhere else. But he’d been summoned, and it was rude, or so he was told, to ignore a royal summons. “Your Highness,” The man held up a hand, silencing him for a few seconds – Joonmyun rather got the impression that he was doing it simply because he could – before waving for him to continue, “surely you understand that the only reason that your Ravens have been taken into our dungeon is because they attacked the royal family.” The man raised an eyebrow. “That does, I believe, give us a right to do as we did.”

The man snorted quietly. “Oh, all this us and we business. I was under the impression that it was your brother that proposed it, not you.”

“And it was his fiancé that caught the first Raven. Even so, it was the White Crown’s doing, and I am a member of the White Crown.” After a few moments of silence, the man rose to his feet and started towards Joonmyun, eyes dark. “Your Highness-”

“Joonmyun.” The man came to a halt in front of him. He only had about an inch on Joonmyun, but it sure felt like more. “When I came to power, when I rose to take the throne of Eishta,” he paused, mulling over his words for a few seconds, “I promised my father something. I promised him that we would come out of this war successful. If that means that I have to send every Raven under my command to kill your brother’s betrothed, to kill your brother, gods, to kill you, then I will do it. I will do what it takes to win this war. You of all people should understand that; you fought on the front lines, you have seen how my men fight, you have seen the true ferocity of my people, my soldiers, my Ravens. And you know that we will not back down.”

He paused as he turned on his heel and started back towards the throne. “So, you can tell your brother – and your parents, and that miserable wretch of a betrothed – that they can take as many of my men as they want; but they should be aware that for each one they take, I’ll take one of the White Crown’s soldiers, and I’ll send him into the Pits. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

“Prince Minseok, all due respect-”

“It’s _King_ Minseok, to you, Joonmyun.” Joonmyun nodded quickly, looking anywhere but at Minseok. “Tell your family. Make sure they understand exactly what I plan on doing. Tell them that if they want this war to end and to actually keep their country, they will raise the white flag by sundown on the last day of this week.” He paused. “If they do not, I will see Sivalia razed. Do I make myself clear?” Joonmyun nodded quickly. “Out.”

As Joonmyun hurriedly left the room, Minseok made his way out, into the hallways of the palace. There was fury boiling in his stomach, twisting his insides into angry knots. He couldn’t have that; for years, he had prided himself on being able to keep his anger to himself, keep it deep inside, where no one else could see it – or use it. But now, after that last interaction with Joonmyun, it was threatening to boil over.

He slammed the door to his quarters shut behind him, threw himself down into a chair. His servants didn’t acknowledge his presence, merely continued whatever it was that they’d been doing before he entered. After a few seconds of silence, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass orb. It glinted in the dim light, and he smiled, before running his fingers across the surface.

An image appeared in it a moment later. “Good morning, my King. You’re looking well.”

“Zitao.” He bit back his anger; Zitao didn’t need to hear him like that, but more importantly, Jongdae didn’t need to know just how furious he was. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”

“Well,” Zitao shifted, just enough that Minseok could see Jongdae’s head in his lap. He was asleep, “for the most part, they’ve been nothing but kind to us. Baekhyun almost got himself into trouble with the Crown Commander – you’ve met Kyungsoo, right?” Minseok nodded once. “They’ve left us alone, most of the time. Kyungsoo was down here earlier, wanted to know how I got in, told me that I was endangering the rest of the hell-touched-”

“Don’t use that word.” Zitao snapped his mouth shut, nodding. “You know how I feel about you using that word when you’re around-”

“Yes, my King.” Zitao bowed his head, glanced down at Jongdae. “Told me that I was endangering the rest of our people. I told him to fuck off. Well, I didn’t use those words, but that’s the essence of it.” Minseok hummed quietly. “I suppose you want to talk to Baekhyun?”

“Please.” Zitao nodded, passed the orb in his hand over to Baekhyun, who looked half-asleep and half-furious. “Baekhyun.” He nodded his acknowledgement but didn’t speak. “You, my dear, are in so much trouble when you return to me.” Another nod. The look in his eyes told Minseok everything that he needed to know. “But I imagine that Zitao has chewed you out enough already.”

“Yes, my King.”

“Baekhyun, I’m not just upset about you endangering Jongdae, you know that.” Baekhyun nodded quickly. “You put yourself in danger, too, in more ways than anyone expected. You could have been hurt, very badly, and then what would I have done?” Baekhyun didn’t say anything. “Take care of yourself. I’m sure you’ll be out of there in no time.”

“My King?”

“Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun exhaled quietly. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet – he was going to cry, if Minseok wasn’t careful with his words. The last thing he needed was for Baekhyun to cry. “I’m sorry. I fucked up, I shouldn’t have…done what I did with Jongdae. I got ahead of myself, I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have, and that was a mistake. It’s my fault that we got caught and I’m sorry.” He sniffled quietly and after a few seconds, Minseok saw Jongdae crawl into Baekhyun’s lap, twisting around to face the glass ball, smiling at Minseok.

“Hi, Minseok.” Minseok smiled fondly at him, gaze flicking to Baekhyun for a split second. Baekhyun wrapped his arms around Jongdae’s waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. “It isn’t- well. It is your fault, but we’re going to get out of here, you know that.” He looked at Baekhyun, smiling. “It’s gonna be okay. We have Tao, now, he’ll help us get out. Besides, you really think Minseok’s going to let us rot in here?” Baekhyun chuckled quietly. Jongdae patted Baekhyun on the cheek, then turned back to Minseok. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, love.” Minseok shifted in his seat, still smiling fondly at Jongdae. “From now on, you listen to Zitao. He’ll get you out of there, when the time is right. You understand me?” Jongdae nodded quickly, grinning. “He’ll bring you home. He’ll bring the both of you home.” Baekhyun smiled sadly, nosed at Jongdae’s neck. “Keep Baekhyun out of trouble, okay, love?”

“Yes, my King.”

Minseok shot him one more smile, before he spoke again. “I have to go. War to win, opposing army to crush, soldiers to punish, you know how it is.” Jongdae laughed, then nodded. “Take care of each other. Come home to me alive, in one piece, and healthy, if you don’t mind.” Baekhyun chuckled but nodded his assent. “And don’t get in more trouble than you already are.”

“Yes, my King. I will.” Minseok nodded. “We’ll see you soon.” One more nod, then Baekhyun tapped the ball. Minseok’s face vanished, and Baekhyun rolled the ball back to Zitao, who tucked it into his pocket. “I’m sorry that I got us in trouble.” Zitao shook his head, waved Baekhyun’s words off. “Just say the word, I’ll be ready to go.”

“I know.” A moment passed, then Zitao spoke again. “Any of us could have made the same mistake. It’s not something we could have predicted; you didn’t know that they’d know you were coming. I still haven’t managed to figure out how exactly they knew about it.” He looked away, pursed his lips. “And it’s like we said, we’ll get out of here. We have another chance, we’ll get out of here, we’ll complete our mission, and we’ll get home.” Baekhyun nodded slowly, then moved, pulling Jongdae with him, to climb into Zitao’s lap, still holding onto Jongdae. “It’s going to be okay.”

***

“You look exhausted.” Luhan turned to look at Sehun, who was standing in the doorway, smiling at him. He smiled back at him, then yawned, tried to hide it behind his hand. “You are exhausted. You should be asleep.” Luhan hummed quietly, then looked back at the letter in front of him. Sehun huffed quietly, then came to stand beside his chair, draping himself around Luhan’s shoulders. “It can wait until morning, whatever it is.” Luhan shook his head once and Sehun frowned. He shifted, so he could read the letter. Luhan wasn’t exactly hiding it.

It was from his mother. She seemed angry – furious, even – about the fact that she had yet to receive an invitation to a wedding. Luhan’s shoulders were tight, rigid with tension, and after a few seconds, Sehun placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, trying to rub some of the tension away. “Don’t worry about it.” Luhan huffed out a laugh, as Sehun mumbled the words into his neck. “Don’t let her get to you. You can take your time. It doesn’t have to be now, it doesn’t have to be in two months. We can wait.”

Luhan twisted around, to kiss the corner of Sehun’s mouth. “I know that we can. The problem is that _she_ can’t. She has no concept of patience.” Sehun nodded his understanding, then kissed Luhan again. “She’ll continue getting more and more impatient, until she finally snaps and says something to upset me, then I’ll do something I regret.”

Sehun squeezed his shoulder again. “It’s not her wedding. It’s not her marriage. It’s yours. I don’t give a shit what she has to say about it.” He reached around to pick up the letter. “Let me handle it.” He kissed Luhan gently. “Let me take care of this. You don’t need to worry about her. You have a war to handle.”

Luhan chuckled. “Is this how our relationship is going to go? You handle the family drama, I handle your wars?” Sehun smiled against his mouth, then tugged him out of his seat. “Sehun, I’m busy-”

“No, you aren’t. I’m handling your mother, remember?” Luhan sighed, then relented, allowed Sehun to tug him out of the office and towards his bedroom. “C’mon. You need to relax. Let me help you.” He wrapped an arm around Luhan’s waist, still kissing him gently. “Please?” Luhan chuckled, as he tugged Sehun’s belt loose, dropped it on the floor of the bedroom. “Yeah, okay.” Luhan laughed again, as Sehun pushed him onto the bed, crawling up after him quickly. “How do you want me?”

“However you want.” Sehun chuckled, pressed his mouth to Luhan’s jaw, teeth dragging across his skin gently. “ _Sehun_ , please.” Sehun urged Luhan’s thighs apart with gentle hands, settled in between them. “Please.” His fingers threaded through Sehun’s hair, tugging him down for another kiss. “You’re so pretty, please, I want you, I want you so bad, you’re so pretty, please, Sehun.”

“Relax, Luhan.” Sehun murmured the words into his neck. “Relax.” He smoothed a hand down Luhan’s side, then reached to untie his robes gently. “Breathe.”

He heard something that sounded vaguely like a knock and whipped around. “Fuck off.” A beat of silence, then someone slipped into the room. It was Joonmyun, and Sehun swore loudly. Luhan hushed him quietly, placed a hand over his mouth, but Sehun pulled his hand away. “Why the fuck are you just walking into my damn room? Did I not tell you to fuck off? Does that not generally mean _go the fuck away, I don’t want to talk to you, I’m fucking busy_?”

Joonmyun raised an eyebrow. “You also told me you wanted a report as soon as I returned from Eishta. I got home about five minutes ago, and I’m here to give my report.” Sehun exhaled, furious, then turned fully to look at him, pulling Luhan into his lap. Luhan chuckled, then turned to glare at Joonmyun, who very intentionally did not meet his eyes. “The King says that for every Raven you take into custody, he’ll take one of your soldiers and send him into the Pits.” Luhan gasped, hands clamping down on Sehun’s arms. “He- he’s given us until the end of the week to surrender. If we do, he’ll leave our family in control of Sivalia. If we don’t, he’ll destroy everything and take control of the country himself.”

“He will _fucking not_.” Luhan was on his feet in an instant. He grabbed Joonmyun by the arm as he left the room, dragging him along as he made his way down the hallway and into the war room. Jongin was leaving as they entered, but he turned and followed when he saw the look on Jongin’s face. “Go get Kyungsoo.” Jongin nodded quickly, left the room without so much as looking at Joonmyun. Luhan came to stand at the war table, Joonmyun standing on the opposite side. After a few moments, Sehun joined them, came to stand at Luhan’s shoulder. When Kyungsoo joined them, his eyebrows were drawn together in concern. Jongin stayed by the door when he entered, but he looked like he wanted nothing more than to hold Kyungsoo’s hand. “Catch Kyungsoo up.” Joonmyun nodded. He turned to speak to Kyungsoo and as he did, Luhan looked at Sehun. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

Luhan exhaled quietly. “You’re going to hate me when you find out what I plan on doing. You are going to be so furious when you hear about it. You will try to stop me from doing it. I can’t have you doing that. I can’t let you stop me. So, I am telling you now: get out.” Sehun looked ready to complain. “I said get out, Sehun. Please, if you trust me, let me take care of this.” Sehun opened his mouth to say something, but Luhan cut him off. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to tell me that you won’t stop me, you promise, whatever. I know you. You are going to do it, whether or not you think you will. So, please, please, Sehun, trust me, and go.”

After a few moments, Sehun relented and left the room. Luhan turned to look at the others, eyes going dark. “I’m going to meet the King.”

Kyungsoo protested immediately. “Absolutely not, no, you’ll get killed, we can’t risk your life like that, Prince Luhan, all due respect, but-”

“Kyungsoo. I value your opinion, I respect your capabilities, but shut the fuck up. I’m going to do this, you can’t stop me.” Joonmyun didn’t say anything, watching Kyungsoo and Luhan closely. “You’re coming with me. You and Joonmyun both.” Kyungsoo looked like he wanted to argue, then seemed to think better of it. He bowed his head. “Sehun can’t find out about this until I’m long gone. Jongin, that’s where you come in.” Jongin stepped forward, staying as far away from Joonmyun as he could while still approaching the table. “Keep him busy. Keep him as far away from us as possible. Stall, for as long as you can.” Jongin nodded slowly, worry in his eyes. “He won’t hurt you, because he knows that I’ll kill him if he does.” Jongin nodded again.

“Are we leaving now?”

“Yes.” Luhan turned to Kyungsoo and Joonmyun. “Meet me in the dungeons. We’re bringing them with us.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding.” Joonmyun placed his hands on the table, leaned forward. “You’re going to get us all killed. We are all going to die, and for what?”

Luhan fixed his gaze on Joonmyun. “All due respect, Prince Joonmyun, but in a very short time, I will be your King. I have nothing to gain from getting you or Kyungsoo killed, nothing to gain from getting your country destroyed, and everything to gain from keeping it intact. I have your family’s best interests in mind, and I am going to do what it takes to win this war. I am asking you to trust me, and to do as I ask.” After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. “I will be in the dungeons in ten minutes with Kyungsoo. If you are going to help us, you will meet us there.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel, and left the room. Chanyeol was waiting, his gaze filled with concern. “Prince Luhan- no, no, Sehun didn’t send me, Jongin asked me to- to see if you needed anything from me.” After a few seconds, Luhan nodded. Chanyeol followed wordlessly down the hallway, didn’t speak until they were in Luhan’s quarters, the door closed behind them. “What do you need from me?”

“The same thing I asked of Jongin. Stall.” Chanyeol swallowed hard. “Problem?”

He bowed his head. “Sehun knows me too well. He’d catch on in about two seconds.” He paused. “I can go with you.” Luhan exhaled quietly, nostrils flaring. “Your Highness-”

“Absolutely not. Sehun would kill me if you got hurt.” Chanyeol didn’t speak, but his eyes flashed red for half a second, annoyance filling them. Luhan’s eyes went wide, and he didn’t speak for a few moments. “You- you’re-” He cut off, stepped backwards. “You’re one of us. You’re god-touched.” Chanyeol nodded once. One of his hands curled into a fist, and when it uncurled, fire danced across his palm. “Ah. Okay.” After a few seconds, he nodded. “Okay. Dungeons. Go. I’ll meet you down there.” Chanyeol bowed, then left the room.

Luhan exhaled, then made his way into his closet. He looked at the clothes hanging there, before pulling a set of robes off of a shelf, changing into them quickly. They felt foreign – hell, they were – and uncomfortable. He took a deep breath, then squared his shoulders and left the room, made his way into the dungeons as quickly as he could. There, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo were already waiting, in tense silence. Kyungsoo blinked quickly when he saw Luhan, but didn’t say anything, though he definitely took note of the outfit. “They’re cuffed, right?”

“Mhm. It’ll keep them from using their gifts.” Luhan nodded once, then walked to the door of the cell. He pulled it open and stepped inside, to find Zitao sitting against the wall, glaring up at him. Jongdae’s body was laid over his legs, Baekhyun’s head on his shoulder, but they had both woken when he’d opened the door.

Zitao was the first to speak, his voice filled with venom. “How kind of you to come see us, your Highness. And here I thought you were going to leave me down here to rot.” Luhan didn’t say a word, as Kyungsoo and Chanyeol slipped into the cell as well. “And what would the future Crown Bitch of Sivalia want with me today, hm?”

“I’m taking you back to your home.” Zitao’s face twisted with confusion. “If your King wants to talk to me nicely, I’ll give you back. If he does as I ask, I’ll give back the other two.” Jongdae perked up at that, eyes wide. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll kill all three of you in front of him.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Baekhyun was the one who spoke, voice half-bored.

Luhan raised an eyebrow, considering the three of them for a moment, before he moved, faster than their eyes could follow. The next thing they knew, he was holding Jongdae against his chest, a hand on his throat. Jongdae let out a high-pitched noise of pure fear, squirming. Zitao started to his feet, then froze when he saw the look on Luhan’s face. “I think you’ll find that there’s very little I wouldn’t do.” Jongdae was still squirming, trying to wriggle out of Luhan’s grip, but he stilled when he caught Baekhyun’s eye. “Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, get them out of here. We need to move.”

***

“My King?”

Minseok looked up slowly, relishing in the sight of his servant’s face going pale when their gazes found his eyes silver. He raised an eyebrow, and the kid standing in front of him swallowed hard, before he spoke, voice quiet. “I- pardon me for the interruption-”

“Get on with it.”

The servant nodded quickly, looking anywhere but Minseok’s eyes. “I- my King, there’s a party that’s crossed the border. The Sivalian border.” Minseok didn’t say a word. “I- it’s the- well, not the Crown Prince, but one of the Princes, and the Crown Prince’s betrothed, and the Crown Commander.” Minseok still didn’t speak. The longer the servant went on, the more restless he seemed to get, shifting awkwardly in place, as if he’d rather be anywhere else – hell, he probably would rather be anywhere than where he was. “They’re flying the silver flag.” Minseok exhaled slowly, nostril’s flaring. He got to his feet, and the servant took an automatic step backwards, fear twisting his face.

Minseok, for the most part, ignored him, made his way to the window, to look out across the plains. On a clear day, he could see the Sivalian palace from here. “Oh, no no no. No, Prince Sehun, that wasn’t the deal.” His fingertips came to rest on the glass and frost spread across the window rapidly, obscuring the cloudy view that he had. “Oh, dear me. I suppose they do need a lesson, don’t you think, Jungguk?” He heard a very audible swallow from the man behind him, but no answer. “Very well. Send word to the kitchen; we’ll have guests for dinner tonight. And make sure their horses are housed properly.” He turned to face Jungguk, who was whiter than Minseok had thought a person could be. “Must I ask again?” Jungguk shook his head, backing slowly towards the door. “Then get to work, before I lose my temper.”

When Jungguk was gone, Minseok sucked in a sharp breath. So, the Heir of Sivalia thought he could negotiate his way out of this. An amusing thought, but not one that carried any real weight. He made his way out of the room and into the hallway, where servants were already bustling about. They parted as he made his way down the hall and into the throne room. The room was empty, except for him. It wouldn’t be for long.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat on the throne before his guests arrived, but before he knew it, the doors to the throne room were swinging open.

He could have sworn his heart stopped when he saw who was standing on the other side.

His eyes found Jungguk first, and he motioned him forward, until Jungguk was standing at his side, bent down so Minseok could speak quietly in his ear. “The next time that you fail to include a detail this important, Jungguk, will be the last time that you have an opportunity to give details. Do you understand me?” Jungguk nodded quickly, mouthing silent apologies; he was trembling. “Unbelievable. Get out of my sight.” Jungguk nodded again, then slipped away, leaving Minseok alone. He turned his gaze to the people standing just past the doorway. “You have a lot of guts, you know, flying a silver flag. I believe I made it very clear to you, Joonmyun, that I would accept a white flag, and nothing else.” Joonmyun nodded once. “Care to explain?” Joonmyun opened his mouth to speak but fell silent when one of the others in the group spoke.

“If you want to talk to someone, King Minseok, you can speak with me.” Ah. That was the betrothed, then, the Prince of Eliria. Minseok’s eyes raked over his form, blood going cold when he spotted Jongdae standing behind him. “You made your position very clear to Joonmyun. He made that position very clear to me. I do not except your proposition.”

“And hence, you came here to…to what, your Highness? Convince me to call off the war? I think it’s a little too late for that, don’t you?” He had to fight to keep from looking right at Jongdae when he saw him shudder, in his peripheral. “Or perhaps you’re here to threaten me?”

“No.” Minseok raised a rather incredulous eyebrow. “I’m not like you, your Majesty. We both know I can’t threaten _you_.” He paused as he stepped forward. Jongdae followed wordlessly, eyes wide as he gazed up at Minseok. “I can, however, threaten them. So, yes, you will negotiate with me. You will call off this war. Or they’ll die, for your insolence.”

“How dare you come into my home and-”

“You sent them to me, your Majesty. You sent Zitao to stalk me – and I’m sure you would have had him kill me, afterwards – and you sent the other two to kill my betrothed. I believe I have every right to threaten them; you’re lucky they aren’t already dead.” A few moments passed in silence, then Luhan moved, wrapped his arm around Jongdae’s shoulders. Minseok visibly tensed, while Jongdae went lax with fear. “You’re attached to this one in particular, aren’t you? It would be a pity if I were to-”

“Fine. You will have your negotiation. And I’ll consider ending the war.” Luhan smiled dangerously, didn’t release Jongdae. “Let him go.”

“Kyungsoo,” Luhan glanced back at Kyungsoo, who had a hand on Zitao’s shoulder, “you remember what I said to Zitao, before we left the palace?” Kyungsoo nodded once. “Remind me what it was.”

“ _If your King wants to talk to me nicely, I’ll give you back. If he does as I ask, I’ll give back the other two_.” Minseok growled his outrage, but didn’t speak, as Kyungsoo released Zitao’s wrists. He still had the cuffs on, and he didn’t move from where he was standing, eyes fixed on Jongdae, who was trembling.

“You call off this war, I’ll give you the others. Until then, they stay with us.” Jongdae made a noise in his throat, soft and terrified, and Minseok’s gaze snapped to him. “Your choice, really. I’d make it quickly, though.”

“Are you threatening them?”

“Not yet, your Majesty.” A few moments passed in silence. “Not yet.”

His fingers crept towards Jongdae’s neck, fingertips dragging across his skin slowly. Jongdae shuddered, tiny flecks of yellow appearing in his fear-filled eyes as he gazed up at Minseok. After a few seconds, Minseok noticed the tears starting to well up, and his gaze softened, before he turned to look at Luhan. “Fine. I’ll talk to my Generals. Let them go.” Luhan snickered and Jongdae whimpered. “Luhan.”

“Chanyeol, let Baekhyun go.” The next thing he knew, he saw Baekhyun moving to wrap his arms around Zitao, who placed a hand on the small of his back, hushing him quietly. He was sniffling softly, eyes moving between Jongdae and Minseok. “You can have him back when I have a written statement in my hands, with your signature on it, calling off this war.” Minseok exhaled quietly, then nodded his agreement. Luhan smiled, watched patiently as a man – one of Minseok’s Generals, he was sure – entered the room, and walked to Minseok’s side.

As they spoke, Luhan glanced back at the others. Chanyeol was watching him with wide, mildly scared eyes. Kyungsoo’s face was stoic, but Luhan could see the slightest hint of discomfort in his eyes. Joonmyun, conversely, looked like he was enjoying the show before him. When Luhan looked back at the throne, Minseok had a piece of paper in his hands. He got to his feet slowly, walked across the room, then held it out to Luhan, who smiled, squeezed Jongdae’s shoulder, then plucked the paper out of Minseok’s fingers, and released Jongdae.

Jongdae all but threw himself at Minseok, wrapped his arms around his waist. Minseok didn’t look at him, merely glared at Luhan, who had backed away. The others followed him out of the room, leaving the doors wide open behind them. Minseok exhaled quietly, tension bleeding out of his shoulders, then he wrapped an arm around Jongdae’s shoulders, pressed his face into his hair. “Hey, shh, hush.” Jongdae was sobbing quietly, crying all over Minseok’s shirt. After a few seconds, Zitao came forward, pulling Baekhyun with him. Minseok slid a hand under Jongdae’s jaw, turned his face up to meet his eyes. “Did he hurt you?” Jongdae shook his head quickly.

“He just gave him a horrible fright.” Minseok nodded once, before pressing a kiss to Jongdae’s forehead. “He scared the shit out of him, and us, earlier. But no, he didn’t hurt him, not physically, anyway.” Zitao was still holding onto Baekhyun with one hand, reached out with his free hand to touch Minseok’s shoulder gently. “He needs to sleep. He didn’t sleep well in that dungeon.” Minseok nodded again. Jongdae wasn’t crying any harder, but he was still sniffling quietly into Minseok’s shoulder. “You want me to-”

“Would you? I’ll be up in a moment, but I need to sort some things out before I go upstairs.” Zitao nodded, reached over to take Jongdae’s hand. He tugged gently, and Jongdae moved, to press into Zitao’s side instead. “Thank you.”


	7. Chapter 7

“You did _what_?” Luhan didn’t turn to look at Sehun as he walked into the palace, merely continued down the hallway, towards his quarters. “You went to Eishta? You spoke to the King? You risked your life to have a chance at ending this war, and you gave up the prisoners along the way? Are you out of your fucking mind, Luhan?” Luhan still didn’t speak. “You could have been killed! What if you had been, what if you’d died, then where would Sivalia be? Still at war, and without you here to fucking win said war!”

“Sehun, please, shut the fuck up.” Luhan turned to glare at him, eyes flashing blue for a second. “Look, what’s done is done. I didn’t die, clearly, I wasn’t killed. I’m here, I’ve returned in one piece, and, more importantly, I’ve brought Kyungsoo and Joonmyun and Chanyeol all back with me, intact. So, yes, things could have gone wrong; the fact of the matter is, they didn’t. In fact, they went very, very well.” As if to prove the point, Luhan held out the piece of paper that Minseok had given him. Sehun glanced at it, then looked at Luhan again.

“Kyungsoo, Joonmyun, Chanyeol, out. Now.” They obeyed without a second thought; they didn’t want to be anywhere near this. “You are a member of the Crown of Sivalia. You will rule my homeland, my country. We can’t afford to have you running off to do things like this, not when the risk that these things pose is so great. Please tell me that you understand that.”

After a moment, Luhan relaxed, placed the paper on the table in front of them. “Sehun.” Luhan stepped closer, wrapped his arms around Sehun’s neck, pulling him closer. “Please trust me.” Sehun nodded once, opened his mouth to say something. “Please. I was raised in a palace, the same as you were, I’ve had my lessons in negotiation, in war, in peace. I know what I’m doing. He wouldn’t have hurt us. He knows better than that.” He ran a hand through Sehun’s hair, then rose up on his toes to kiss Sehun on the corner of his mouth.

“Luhan, I trust you, you know that, but what you did was so beyond stupid. You could have died, I wouldn’t put it past Minseok to violate the code of the silver flag. He’s pissed off, and that makes him dangerous.” Luhan nodded, kissed Sehun once more. “Stop doing that, stop trying to distract me, this is important-”

“Mhm.” Luhan hummed quietly, pressed another kiss to Sehun’s mouth before he pulled back slightly. “So is this, after Joonmyun interrupted us earlier.” Sehun sighed quietly, arms winding around Luhan’s waist. “C’mon. We can finish this conversation in the morning, can’t we?” Another quiet sigh, then Sehun nodded. “Take me to bed.”

“You’re a menace.” Luhan cackled, as Sehun’s grip on him tightened. “An absolute fucking menace.”

Luhan’s palms pressed against Sehun’s jaw gently and he kissed him one more time. “If you don’t want to, I can- well. I can wait.” He patted Sehun on the cheek as he pulled away, but Sehun’s grip tightened. “Yeah, you don’t want that, do you?”

“Shut up, little Prince, and let me take you to bed.” He all but dragged Luhan out of the office and into his bedroom, untying his clothes with quick fingers. They fell to the floor as he pushed Luhan towards the bed. Luhan crawled up onto the mattress slowly, smiling fondly at Sehun, who followed him up there a moment later, smiling. “You are so beautiful.”

Luhan shoved playfully at his shoulder and Sehun laughed, before leaning down to kiss him again, mouth sliding along Luhan’s lips gently. “I think this is going to work. Us. You and me. You know?” Sehun nodded, kissing gently along Luhan’s jaw, down onto his throat. “Oh, it’s going to work so fucking well. It’ll be perfect.” Sehun laughed as he mouthed at Luhan’s neck gently, hands sliding down his chest and onto his stomach. “We can fix this country. I can fix this war, you can fix Sivalia’s problems with my homeland, we can fix all of this.”

“If you don’t stop talking, darling, you might have me convinced that you’ve only taken me to bed in order to talk politics.” Luhan chuckled, as Sehun’s mouth latched onto his nipple gently. When he pulled back, he smiled at Luhan. “I do love a good political talk, sweet Prince, but not right now, not while you look so beautifully tempting.”

Luhan snickered, as Sehun pulled his legs apart, slipped in between them. “If I look so tempting, all powerful Crown Prince, then why don’t you do what we both know you so desperately want to?” Luhan ran his fingers through Sehun’s hair. “Give into the temptation.”

Sehun growled, leaned forward to kiss Luhan again, biting at his lower lip. Luhan laughed into his mouth, grip tightening in his hair, pulling Sehun closer. “You’re a fucking brat.” Luhan laughed again, wrapped his legs around Sehun’s waist, then rolled, flipping him onto his back. He sat up quickly, grinning dangerously down at Sehun. “Fucking _evil_.”

Luhan’s smile widened, curling lazily across his face. A moment passed, then his eyes went blue, and he leaned down, releasing his hair in favor of bracing his forearms on either side of Sehun’s head. He kissed Sehun gently, rolling his hips against Sehun’s crotch languidly. “I am a brat. Evil is a little bit of a strong word, but I understand where you’re coming from.” He spoke quietly against Sehun’s lips. “But I’m your brat, at least for the time being.” He patted Sehun on the cheek, then moved, stripping him out of his clothes with quick movements. He ducked down, and before Sehun knew what he was doing, Luhan had sunk his teeth into Sehun’s shoulder.

“ _Fuck_ -”

“Shh, hush.” Luhan smoothed a thumb over the mark, smiling at Sehun fondly. “You’re a big boy, you can take it, can’t you, your all powerful Highness?” Sehun growled at him, baring his teeth at Luhan. Luhan’s smile turned nasty, and he ducked down again, to kiss Sehun gently, sucking on his lower lip. “How are you supposed to protect me if you can’t even take that, oh great and powerful one?” Sehun snarled, gripping Luhan’s hips tightly. Luhan hummed, rolled his hips again. “You know I’m kidding, right?”

“Of course I do, you fucking brat.” Luhan cackled, then bit down on Sehun’s lower lip gently, tugging backwards slightly before he released. “Are we actually going to do this, or are you as much of a tease as you are a brat?” Luhan huffed quietly, then moved, to wrap his fingers around Sehun’s cock. “Don’t you fucking tease me, little Prince.”

Luhan huffed quietly, smiling fondly at him. “I can do whatever I fucking want, Sehun.” Sehun laughed, then yanked Luhan forward, against his chest. “Because you like me.”

Sehun cackled. “Yeah, I do.” He kissed Luhan gently, fingers tangling in his hair. “So, are you actually going to-”

“Yeah, yeah, calm down.” Luhan kissed him once more, then moved, until his mouth was hovering over Sehun’s cock. “Stay still.” Sehun exhaled quietly and Luhan laughed. “I know you don’t like it. But I don’t like having a dick shoved down my throat.” Sehun snorted quietly. “Compromise is important, we both know that.” Sehun huffed quietly. “And I know that you think you’re getting the short end of the deal, but really, I’m sucking your cock, so how short of an end could it be?” He smirked at Sehun. “Well-”

“If you are about to make a fucking joke about my-”

“Shh, hey,” Luhan put a finger to Sehun’s lips, hushing him quietly. “I would never, ever do such a thing.” After a moment, he kissed Sehun again. “You know that.”

“Oh, is that so?” Sehun ran his fingers through Luhan’s hair gently. “You sure about that, angel?” Luhan snickered. “Oh, angel.”

“Kiss me again.” Sehun did, kissing Luhan slowly, gently, arms wrapping around Luhan’s body gently. “Mm. Again.” Sehun smiled, lips parting when he kissed Luhan the next time. “Mm. I love when you kiss me.”

They both jumped when someone knocked on the door. This time, it was Luhan that swore loudly, growling a string of words into Sehun’s mouth. He whipped around, a split second before Chanyeol stepped into the room. He blushed a furious red, tried to back out, but stilled when Luhan spoke to him. “Chanyeol, the next time that you interrupt us, I swear to every single god that I’ve ever heard the name of, I will come at you, dick out and all, and I will break your nose, just like I did to Sehun. Do you understand?” Chanyeol nodded quickly, eyes wide. “Just- get the _fuck_ out of here.”

As Chanyeol left the room, Luhan looked back at Sehun, who was staring up at him. “I won’t lie, that kind of killed the mood.” Luhan nodded once, smiled down at him. He leaned down to press a kiss to Sehun’s mouth, then withdrew. “One of these days, I _will_ fuck you, you know. I’ll get my hands on you, and I’ll have my way with you.”

***

“I- your Highness- your _Highness_ \- this is all very sudden-” Jongin scrambled after the Prince, trying to keep pace with him, but for as long as his legs were, they weren’t quite long enough. “Prince Kris, in the name of all of the gods of Eliria, _stop_!”

Kris spun around quickly, eyes flashing for a split second, and Jongin stiffened, fear holding him in place. He bowed his head, avoiding Kris’ eyes, then spoke, voice quiet. “You know that you have all of my respect. You know that I would not raise my voice at you unless it were for a legitimate reason. If you keep walking, if you walk into Luhan’s room right now, you will find him in a rather compromising position. I would not wish that on you, nor on him, and that is the only reason that I spoke the way I did.”

“Oh, Jongin, I do miss having you around.” Kris looked at him for a few more moments, then spoke again, voice quiet. “Where can I wait for him?” After a few seconds, Jongin motioned for Kris to follow him, then led him down the hallway, and into a small sitting room. “You are looking quite well, given the circumstances.”

“I- thank you, your Highness, I- I like it here. It’s good to be home.” Kris hummed softly as he sat down, facing Jongin. “Prince Luhan is doing well, too. He is- he has come around to the situation, I think. He- he was assisting the Crown Commander with the war.”

“Mhm.” Kris ran a hand through his hair, then spoke. “Tell me about the assassin. My dear brother was not exactly…forthcoming, with that information.” Jongin bowed his head, biting at his lower lip gently. “He’s a former Crow? A Crow, turned traitor, turned _Raven_?”

“Yes, your Highness. He- I- I’m sorry, I don’t know how much I’m supposed to tell you, other than what Prince Luhan already said. He- he- originally, he wasn’t going to tell you anything, it was only- well. You see, that’s the kind of thing I don’t think I can share with you.”

“Interesting.”

“All due respect, Prince Kris, you aren’t my Crown Prince, not anymore. I serve Prince Luhan and I serve the Crown of Sivalia.” He paused, squirming in place, before he continued. “His name is Zitao, he’s one of the highest ranking Ravens of all of them, and not long after he got caught, two more followed, tried to attack us, tried to kill Sehun and Luhan, I stopped them, then Luhan took them to Eishta and traded them back to the King in exchange for the end of the war.”

They lapsed into silence. Jongin looked like he’d rather be anywhere than where he was, looked like he was trying to slip through the floor and as far away from Kris as possible. That was understandable; Kris looked furious – he could hear his blood pounding in his ears, he was sure that the color of his eyes had shifted.

“He did _what_?”

Jongin shrank in place. He didn’t say anything, but after a few moments, the door opened, and Luhan stepped into the room, Sehun at his shoulder. “What’s going on?” He looked between Kris and Jongin quickly, then turned on Kris, furious words on his tongue. “Why are you here and what have you said to him?”

“I- he didn’t say anything to me, my Prince, it was- I- I may or may not have told about what happened, with you and the King of Eishta-” Jongin cut off when Luhan stepped past him, towards Kris. Sehun shot Jongin a look, and after a few seconds, Jongin slipped out of the room, leaving them alone. Luhan looked at Kris for a few moments, without saying a word. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but his fury was beyond obvious.

“I told you everything that you needed to know. The rest of it is none of your business. You are not part of the White Crown, you were not involved in this war, and therefore, there is no reason for you to know any more about anything else that happened.” Luhan glanced back at Sehun, who was watching him carefully. “Look, obviously you aren’t here to talk about that, you didn’t know about that until Jongin told you. Why did you come here in the first place?”

“I’m on my way to Eishta.” Luhan blinked quickly, confused. “The King asked me to come. Well, he asked for Mother, but she was unavailable, so I elected to go, instead. And I figured, I might as well check in on you on the way to see the Dark King.” Luhan exhaled slowly, nostrils flaring. “And, as you say, nothing more is any of your business.”

“Well, now you’ve seen me. And now you can leave.” Sehun put a hand on the small of Luhan’s back, thumb brushing his spine gently. “Tell Mother that she’ll get an invitation to the wedding when the Queen and I decide if we’d rather have the white from the cherry blossoms, or the white from the Salt Cliffs to set the scene for our wedding, and not a moment earlier.” He turned on his heel to leave the room, but then looked back at Kris. “I’m sure the King will be expecting you.” With that, he walked out of the room. Sehun exhaled quietly, then looked at Kris, a bland smile on his face.

“Has he always been like that?”

“Oh, since he could speak.” Kris chuckled quietly. “You should have seen the scene he made before he left to come here. Our mother was _livid_.”

“What did he _do_? I’ve met your mother, she doesn’t strike me as the type.”

Kris snorted. “Well, you’ve never seen her around her family. That’s who Luhan gets his, ah, his attitude from.” He paused. “He was supposed to take a carriage. At the very last minute, he, ah, well, being the drama queen that he is, he elected to, um, not do that.”

Sehun was still smiling. “I suppose I’m glad, then, that he’s like that with everyone. I was concerned that it was just me.” 

Kris shook his head. “No, it’s…it’s everyone. It’s worse with people that he likes – or loves, I suppose, in your case.” Sehun swallowed hard, confusion twisting his face. “Don’t play dumb. Besides the fact that I could see it on his face when you touched him, he _let you touch him_. He’s always been sensitive about who gets to touch him. I’m his favorite brother and he still doesn’t let me. He loves you.” Kris cleared his throat. “I should go. If I don’t, he’ll probably throw me out the front gates. He’s strong enough to.”

That was a cleverly disguised warning, Sehun would admit. He nodded once as Kris slipped past him, but didn’t turn to follow when he left the room. Instead, he sat down slowly, ran his fingers through his hair.

A few minutes passed in silence, then he felt a hand on his shoulder, seconds before Luhan came to sit beside him, hand dropping to rest on his knee. He squeezed gently and Sehun smiled but didn’t speak. “I’m sorry about that.” Sehun shook his head slowly, waved Luhan off with a noncommittal hand movement. “No, I am. I- my arguments with my brother are private, I shouldn’t have let you see me like that.”

Sehun reached out with one hand, used his arm to pull Luhan into his side gently. Luhan went easily, relaxing easily into Sehun’s side. “He told me that you don’t like people touching you.” Luhan made a quiet, displeased noise, but didn’t try to pull free. “Is that true?” Luhan shrugged. “No, I want you to tell me. If I’ve made you-”

“Trust me, Sehun, if I didn’t want you to touch me, you’d know. I would have made it very clear to you.” As if to prove the point, he squeezed Sehun’s knee again, then leaned up to kiss him gently. “I don’t know. I just- I guess I don’t like when people touch me, unless I, you know, know them well enough.” Sehun hummed quietly. “Unless I trust that they won’t hurt me.”

That part was a quiet murmur, so soft that Sehun almost missed it. And before he could ask, before he could really piece together what it was that Luhan meant, Luhan had pulled away and risen to his feet. “C’mon. We have things to do, you know. Now that this war is over – you’re welcome for that, by the way – we can really get this wedding thing on the road.”

Sehun held his gaze for a few moments, then spoke, forcing a smile. “Does the difference between cherry blossom white and Salt Cliff white really matter?”

Luhan laughed, probably louder than he had intended. “I- Sehun, the cherry blossoms in Sivalia aren’t even _white_!” He pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to swallow his laughter, but it didn’t work. “Of course, it doesn’t matter, I’m just wasting both my brother and my mother’s time, to buy _us_ time.”

Sehun blushed. “Well-”

“Besides, every Sivalian royal wedding in the history of literally _forever_ has been held at the Salt Cliffs, we aren’t going to be the ones to change that, your mother and I decided this a long time ago. For as unique as our situation is – did you know that a member of the Elirian Crown has never married a Crown Prince of Sivalia before? – we aren’t going to be _that_ unique. It would be borderline sacrilege. I’m hated by enough people already, I don’t really wish to anger the gods as well.”

Sehun chuckled quietly, watched with laughter in his eyes as Luhan walked to the door. When he looked back at Sehun, he was grinning. “You know what is traditionally held at the cherry gardens?” Sehun shook his head once, and Luhan snorted softly. “Wow.” He stepped out of the door, stopped when he heard Sehun make a rather offended sound. “Baby showers, Sehun. Baby showers.”

***


	8. Chapter 8

“I’m going to kill them.”

Baekhyun looked up from where he was seated on the couch, Jongdae’s head in his lap. He smiled at Minseok, who was glaring down at the table, hands braced along the edge of it, whole body rigid. “I would be surprised if you didn’t.” Minseok looked at him, eyes flashing, and Baekhyun laughed quietly. “They were going to hurt Jongdae. They had every intention of doing it, if you didn’t do as they asked, and you know it. You know that you can’t let them get away with that.” After a moment, he slid out from underneath Jongdae, whose breath caught in his throat when his head hit the couch gently. Baekhyun approached the table slowly, came to a halt on the other side. “We underestimated the White Crown. We especially underestimated Prince Luhan. He’s much more dangerous than a glance would lead you to believe. But it won’t happen again. The Ravens won’t be fooled twice.”

“Is that so?” Minseok saw Baekhyun’s throat bob when he swallowed. “Because the fact that they had managed to capture Zitao should have told you more than it did. It should have told you just how dangerous these people were.”

“None of us knew how many of them were god-touched. There was no way we could have known. We knew about Luhan, we knew about Sehun, but we didn’t know about the others. We didn’t know about the Crown Commander, nor did we know about Luhan’s servant. That was what none of us took into account. That was why we failed.” Zitao went quiet as he crossed the room, came to stand beside Baekhyun. “But now we know. Now we know what they can do, and it will never happen again. We will not fail you again.”

Minseok exhaled quietly, grip on the table tightening for half a second before he released it completely, straightened to his full height. He looked at Zitao, then at Baekhyun. “See that you don’t.” He paused, deep in thought. “Fail me again, and you’ll never have the chance to use your gifts again. The gods may have given them to you, but I can take them away. That much you know to be true.” Zitao bowed his head. “Get out. Take Jongdae with you. I wish to be alone.” He watched patiently as they slipped away, Zitao stopping to take Jongdae in his arms along the way. When they were gone, he turned to face the window, trying to keep his breathing under control. It wouldn’t do to lose control of himself now.

“My King?”

The quiet whisper from the doorway almost missed his attention. After a moment, he turned his head, just enough to show that he was listening. Jungguk hastened to speak again, words fleeing his mouth faster than normal. He was scared. “I- my King, the Elirian- well, the Crown Prince of Eliria has arrived in his mother’s place. He’s w-waiting in th-the- in your private sitting room.” Minseok exhaled slowly, watching frost creep across the glass as he did so. His nostrils flared, and he heard Jungguk’s breath catch in his throat, a moment before he turned to look at him. “I f-figured that you wouldn’t want to be disturbed.”

“Has he been attended to?” Jungguk nodded quickly. “Get out of my sight.” Jungguk turned to leave, but hesitated. After a moment, he glanced back at Minseok. “Must I say it twice?”

“My King-” He paused, chewing on his lower lip. He spoke a few seconds later, voice quiet. “The Generals sent me with a message, as well. But it can wait, if-” He cut off when he saw the look on Minseok’s face. “They’ve caught an Iron Crow. He was in the palace.”

Minseok really didn’t want to lose control. He wasn’t aware that it had happened. Wasn’t aware that, with his angry exhale, the ice on the window had now spread quickly across the room. Wasn’t aware of what he had done, until he heard Jungguk’s soft, terrified noise. He was pinned to the wall, ice wrapped around his wrists, holding him in place, squirming. “Are you lying to me?” Jungguk shook his head quickly. Minseok swore quietly under his breath, hand clenching into a fist. As he did, the ice retreated and Jungguk collapsed to the floor. “Get out of here. Now.”

“Yes, my King.”

As he left, Minseok looked down at his hands. His fingers were trembling, tiny bursts of frost curling off of his palms. Fury washed through his blood in waves, beating against his soul. So, the Crown Prince of Eliria believed he could walk in here and try to negotiate, while he had one of his spies poking around the palace. It would seem that the Elirian Crown had a great deal to learn about common curtesy. He clenched his hands into fists, trying to dull the fury churning in his blood.

Minseok made his way out of the room and down the hallway slowly, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself down. The last thing he needed was to walk into the room where the Prince was waiting angry. The elder prince of Eliria wasn’t on his bad side, not yet. Minseok was loath to admit it, but the Prince might not even know about the Crow. It may very well have been the Queen who sent him.

Kris was on his feet when Minseok entered the room. He bowed his head. “King Minseok, thank you for having me.” Minseok nodded once, his distraction probably clear on his face. “I need to apologize for something.”

“Oh?”

“Well, two things.” He paused, considering. “I- my brother, first and foremost. He- I heard about what he did, and it was out of line. Please understand that he doesn’t in any way represent my people.” Minseok nodded again. “And I- I was just informed that someone had ordered one of the Iron Crows here. I need you to know that I played no part in that, it wasn’t on my orders. I don’t want that to- to influence how this goes today.” There was a silent plea in his eyes as he gazed at Minseok, and after a moment, Minseok nodded once.

“I figured it wasn’t you. You aren’t as stupid as Luhan.” Minseok moved to sit down, and Kris mirrored him, eyes downcast. “He told you about what he did?”

“Something like that.” Kris crossed one leg over the other, uncomfortable. “Your Majesty—”

“Minseok, please.”

Kris inhaled slowly, then nodded. “Minseok, I—my country needs your help.” Minseok raised an eyebrow, but didn’t speak, gaze perfectly neutral. “If there’s one thing that we share, it’s a… a certain dislike for the Sivalian Crown.”

That got Minseok’s attention. He straightened, eyes narrowing. “Your brother is soon to be a part of the Sivalian Crown. What could you possibly stand to gain from hating them?”

Kris let out a quiet breath. “Long story short? My family made a deal with the Sivalian Crown when we gave Luhan to them. Sivalia’s end of the deal has… has not been upheld.”

Minseok frowned, then leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. His eyes were slits, and after a moment, Kris spotted the silver gleam in his eyes. Something unpleasant settled in Kris’ stomach, but he didn’t do anything about it. Minseok cocked his head to the side in thought, then smiled. “Tell me. Tell me what they promised you.”

Kris glanced towards the fireplace, then back at Minseok. “End to the war, which we got. There were… trade agreements, treaties, from years ago, that were supposed to end. We were supposed to negotiate trade. We were promised resources, to help bring our people back from where they’ve been, for the past… I don’t even know how many years.”

Minseok hummed softly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. That silver gleam had brightened slightly, and Kris felt the temperature in the room drop slightly. That had him worried. Minseok spoke a moment later, voice dangerous. “I want to help you.” Kris nodded once. “No, scratch that. I’m going to help you. I’m going to help you, and you’re going to help me, in return. Okay?” Kris nodded once. “I want numbers, for what Sivalia promised you. Get me those details, and I’ll make sure you get what you want.” He stood up slowly and walked towards the window. “In return,” he paused, fingertips tapping against the glass, “you owe me.”

“What—”

“When I decide what I want from you – from Eliria, I should say – I’ll let you know.” Kris’ eyes narrowed slightly, and Minseok chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be reasonable.” After a moment, he turned back to face Kris. “Trust me.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t.”

“I know you don’t. But if this is going to work, you’re going to have to. Just like I’m going to have to trust you. Yes?” They both looked up when the door opened and Zitao stepped through, moved to stand beside Minseok quickly. He leaned down to speak quietly into his ear, and Minseok visibly tensed, before his shoulders relaxed. He glanced at Kris, then looked at Zitao again. “Mm. That’s fine; I’m sure you can handle it.” He tried to wave him off, and Zitao bit his lip, before he spoke again, voice slightly louder, still not enough that Kris could hear it.

When he had finished, Minseok’s face had gone stony. “Kris, I’m sorry, I’m going to have to cut this short. Something’s come up.” He grabbed Zitao by the wrist but couldn’t go anywhere before Kris spoke.

“What’s going on?”

“That’s none of your—”

Minseok stopped Zitao with a look. “Would you care to see?” After a moment, Kris nodded. Minseok hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Come with me.”

He led them out of the room, down the hallway, and down a few flights of stairs, not releasing Zitao until they were in what seemed to be a dungeon of sorts. Zitao took the lead from there, guided them through twisting hallways, until they reached a door. He pushed it open without a word, magic rippling through the air as he did. They entered without a word, and Zitao closed the door behind them.

There was another door across from the first, and Zitao came to a halt in front of it, facing them. His gaze was locked on Kris. “This isn’t something that people know about. Not in Eishta, and especially not outside of it. You can’t tell people.” Without another word, he pushed the door open, and stepped inside. Kris followed silently, but Minseok stayed outside.

As the door closed behind them, Zitao spoke again. “You’re god-touched.” Kris nodded once. “And you know what the hell-touched are?” Another nod. “Minseok is hell-touched, as am I.” After a moment, he touched the wall opposite, and pieces of it folded away, leaving a hole just large enough for them to walk through. “What Minseok’s father set out to do was find all of the hell-touched children in Eishta. He wanted to find the strongest among them and form an elite group of Ravens. When he passed, that task passed to Minseok.”

“And how did that work out?”

“He found three of us, before he died. Baekhyun was eight, when he was brought to the palace. I was sixteen. The third,” he motioned towards another door, “was the youngest, he was…two? Three? Young, regardless.” He paused, kicking at the floor. “Jongdae was the only one that Minseok found. That was eight months ago.”

“Who’s the third?”

Zitao looked at the floor. “This way.” He led Kris to the door, hesitating for a few moments before he opened it, and stepped inside. Kris followed slowly, brows drawing together when four tiny lights – one on each wall – lit up, casting just enough light to reveal the person inside the room. Each wrist was in chains, arms held out to either side, chained to the ceiling. He was on his knees, chest bare, scars decorating his stomach, dried blood caked across his shoulders. Zitao was gazing at the floor, tension holding his shoulders rigid. “This is Hoseok.”

“I—” Kris cut off, swallowing. “Why?”

Zitao’s voice shook when he spoke again. “It—this is my greatest regret.” He exhaled quietly, then stepped forward, tipped Hoseok’s head back with one hand. When he did, Kris saw his eyes, a gold sheen across his pupils. “He—he was my best friend. We—when we were training, we did everything together.” He nearly choked on the words, lower lip trembling. “He was my everything, my whole world.”

“What happened? Why is he—”

“We were on a mission, like I was with Baekhyun and Jongdae, when we went to Sivalia. And Hoseok… he, ah, he got hurt. He got a little bit too excited, he saw an opening that wasn’t there, and it got us in trouble. I almost got hurt, he jumped in front of the attack, it hit him instead of me, and it nearly killed him.” When Zitao gestured, Kris moved to stand behind Hoseok, eyes on the skin of his back. It was ripped apart, partially dried blood and barely healed scabs. “He would have died, if I’d been any slower than I was.”

“What did you _do_?”

Zitao sniffled quietly, ran his fingers through his hair. “I—my Gift, is time. I can control time, on a… a limited basis. I couldn’t, um, stop the entire world from moving, but I can hold one person, maybe two or three.” He reached out to place a hand on the back of Hoseok’s neck, squeezing gently. “His whole body is trapped in a… a bubble, in time, I guess. If he wasn’t, his wounds would get worse – there’s poison in his blood, it would kill him in hours. Unfortunately, he can’t, ah, he can’t heal, either.” He gestured to the wounds, then stepped back. “If I drop that bubble, he dies in pain. I can’t do that to him.”

“You love him.”

“With everything I have. He’s my best friend.” Kris opened his mouth to say something, but Zitao answered before he could. “Sometimes… sometimes, my magic slips. Not enough to release him completely, but enough that he can move. But if he moves too far, he can break the bubble himself. I won’t let him kill himself.”

Zitao straightened a moment later and walked to the door. “The problem, that I had to go to Minseok about,” he paused, rubbing his temples, “is that I can feel my magic slipping. I have tried to do far too much in the past few days.” After a moment, he glanced at Kris, then opened the door. “But I can’t let that bubble drop. I can’t do that to him.”

Kris stepped towards him, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Zitao.” They stepped out of the room, before Kris spoke again. “I know someone. I—he’s a very good friend of mine. I think he might be able to help.”

“I can’t ask that of you—”

“Ask Minseok. I owe him.” Without another word, Kris walked out of the room, back through doors until they rejoined Minseok. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

“No. You’re welcome to go home. Thank you for coming. And for… well. You know.”


	9. Chapter 9

“I have a favor to ask.”

Kris heard a soft chuckle echo through the air. Someone moved through the air behind him, and the next thing he knew, Yixing had landed on the floor in front of him, a serene smile on his face. “Of course, you do.” He drifted away, towards a circular pool in the center of the room. “You’re always asking for _favors_ , Kris. When do I get to collect?”

“Whenever you want, Yixing. You’ve been perfectly nice to me; I owe you plenty.” Yixing chuckled quietly, then sat down beside the pool. “Will you hear what I’m asking of you?”

Yixing hummed. “Oh, I suppose. I can’t deny my precious elder brother anything, can I?” Kris chuckled. “Join me.” After a moment, Kris crossed the room and sat opposite from Yixing.

“You’re a strange one, brother.”

Yixing’s eyes flashed a bright, vibrant green. “Why? Because I’ve embraced my Gift, my place as a god-touched, in this world?” The question was rhetorical, and Kris didn’t answer, his eyes on the water. Yixing spoke again a moment later. “What would you have me do?”

Kris folded his arms over his chest. “When I was in Eishta,” he paused, glanced at Yixing quickly, “the King showed me something. He knew a hell-touched, who served as a member of the Dark Raven—”

“Wait wait wait. You want me to help the King of Eishta.”

“No. I want you to help a friend of his. A friend of his, who is in great pain, and has been for a very long time.” Yixing’s brow furrowed, confusion creasing his forehead. “He—Yixing, I saw his wounds, and there’s not a shred of doubt in my mind, it was the work of one of our people. It was one of the Iron Crow. It was one of _mine_. A member of my squadron hurt him.” Kris exhaled slowly, voice going quiet. “Zitao said—”

“Say that again.”

“What?”

“Zitao?”

“Yes, what about him?”

“He—the Crow?” Kris nodded once. “He’s dead.” Kris shook his head. “He’s _alive_? And he works for Eishta? He serves the Dark King?” Another quick nod. “And you think it’s a good idea to _help_ him? Them?”

“That kid is in _pain_ , Yixing!”

“Yes, I understand that, but—”

“Do you?”

Yixing shot him a look. “You think I don’t feel guilty for not immediately running off to Eishta to help him? You think I don’t wish I could go save him, right now?” Kris didn’t speak; Yixing didn’t care for his answers, not right now. “Kris, if I could save every person on this planet, in this world, then I would. You know that. But I _can’t_. I’m not that powerful. I’m not that strong. My magic doesn’t stretch that far. There are some things that I can’t fix.”

“Yixing, just _listen_ to me—”

“Kris, I love you, but I won’t help the Dark King. I won’t help the Ravens. I’ve done a lot of things for you, I would do a lot of things for you, but I will not commit _treason_. If Mother finds out about this, you’ll be fine, because you’re her favorite, but I won’t be. I will either be thrown out of the country, permanently, or I will be killed, and I won’t let either of those things happen. Don’t ask this of me.”

Kris sighed, then bowed his head, nodding slowly. “Okay. Thank you.”

He got to his feet and started towards the door, leaving Yixing alone. When he reached the door to Yixing’s home, Yixing spoke, voice quiet. “Brother mine.”

“Yixing.”

“I do love you, you know. I—I would ask that this not be the start of bad blood between us.”

Kris sighed quietly, then nodded slowly, ran a hand through his hair. “No. It—not this. While I am… disappointed, I understand why. I do not hate you for it.” He glanced back at Yixing. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will, precious brother.”

“Thank you.”

***

Jongin was waiting in Kyungsoo’s room.

As Kyungsoo closed the door behind him, he exhaled, tension bleeding out of his entire body. He leaned back against the door, smiling fondly at Jongin when he spotted him. “You’re precious.” Jongin smiled at him, didn’t move from where he was seated. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, was seated on the bed, his back pressed against the headboard. “Were you waiting long?”

Jongin shook his head. “Not really. I’ve waited longer.” Kyungsoo huffed out a soft laugh, then walked towards him, tugging his shirt off as he did so. “I missed you.”

Kyungsoo smiled, as he crawled onto the bed, leaned down to kiss Jongin gently. “I missed you, too, precious. I should have come to see you earlier.”

“No. You have a job to do. I shouldn’t distract you from that, as you very well know.” Jongin wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo’s shoulders, tugging him closer. Kyungsoo smiled, then shifted, to straddle Jongin’s hips. “Besides, you’re here now, aren’t you?”

“So I am.” He kissed Jongin once more, then sat up, smiling. “You look exhausted.”

“No more than you.”

“Fair enough.” He slid away slightly, rolled Jongin onto his side, then pressed against his back, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist. “Sleep, now, precious.”

It didn’t take long for Jongin to fall into sleep. As soon as he did, Kyungsoo kissed his shoulder, then slid away, made his way to the door, exiting the room as quietly as possible. He walked down the hallway, and came to stand outside of Sehun’s office, trying to calm the fury curling in his stomach. He knocked gently but didn’t wait for a response before he entered.

Sehun was standing at the window, arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t turn when Kyungsoo enter, but Kyungsoo knew that he was aware of his presence. He made his way across the room, and came to stand beside Sehun, mirroring his position.

Neither of them spoke for what felt like ages. Kyungsoo, eventually, was the one to start, his voice quiet, a sharp razor of danger hidden in it. “You understand, I hope, what your betrothed has done.” Sehun nodded once, sighing quietly. “And you understand that may very well have doomed us. All of us. The entire fucking _country_.”

“I know.”

Kyungsoo had to bite back something angry. “Then why didn’t _he_? Why haven’t you fucking told him? Why didn’t you explain to him, as soon as we knew that they were all hell-touched? You’re the Crown Prince; it’s your responsibility, to make sure that he knows the situation. He should have known.”

“I know, Kyungsoo.”

“Sehun, I don’t know if you remember what I just told you, but he might have just gotten me _killed_! I don’t want to die, I don’t think you want me to die. I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation!”

Sehun’s eyes flashed and he turned on Kyungsoo. “Watch your tone.”

Kyungsoo sucked in a sharp breath, then squared his shoulders. “You know that I mean no disrespect. You know that I am looking out for Sivalia’s best interests, and for _your_ best interests. You—” he cut off, shaking his head to clear it. “Sehun, you’re my best friend. I want what’s best for you. I want to protect you. But I _can’t_ protect you, or Sivalia, if I’m dead. And now that Minseok has Zitao and Baekhyun and Jongdae back, he is a danger to all of us. Hell-touched, god-touched, whatever, we’re all in trouble. Those four are some of the most dangerous people in our world, especially when they’re together.” Sehun nodded slowly, jaw clenching angrily.

“Kyungsoo—”

“I love you. You’re my best friend, you’re the closest thing to a brother I’ve ever had. You and your parents are the only people who have ever supported me, despite being what I am.” After a moment, Sehun looked away, out the window. “I’m going to need your help, to stop this from going to shit.”

“You’ll have what you need. Just keep me informed.” Kyungsoo nodded slowly. “Kyungsoo, there are two things that you do very well. You have a brilliant mind for strategy,” he paused, leaning against the window, “and you’re the craftiest, most conniving motherfucker I’ve ever met. You’ll figure it out.”

“I will.” Kyungsoo crossed his arms over his chest, anxiety creasing his face. “Sehun, I—Jongin doesn’t know.” Sehun nodded slowly. “He doesn’t know who I am. _What_ I am.”

“I figured. Most people don’t.”

Kyungsoo shook his head once. “I don’t want him to hate me.” There was something fragile in his voice, and after a moment, Sehun wrapped an arm around him, pulled him into a close hug.

“He doesn’t. He won’t. He loves you.”

“I—”

“He’ll hate you if you don’t tell him. If you keep it from him.”

“I know.” Kyungsoo pulled away a moment later, then crossed his arms over his chest. “Thank you, Sehun.” Sehun nodded once, then stepped away from Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo smiled, then walked out of the room.

He froze when he found himself face to face with Luhan. Kyungsoo tried to edge around him, but Luhan grabbed him by the upper arm and yanked him closer. “I’m here for you, not him.” He pulled Kyungsoo down the hallway, and into a dark corner. When he spoke, his voice was low, quiet. “Tell me that you love him.”

“I love him. More than anything.”

Luhan inhaled, then nodded slowly, eyes searching Kyungsoo’s face. “He—Jongin’s my best friend. If something happens to him, it’s my fault; I’m supposed to be responsible for him.” Luhan sighed quietly. “If you hurt him, if you do _anything_ to hurt him, then his anger is the last thing you need to worry about. If you hurt him, you’re going to have to deal with me. And if you break his heart – and I pray to every god I know the name of that you don’t – I will kill you. You understand?”

“Yes. It won’t happen. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to get back to him—” Kyungsoo made to turn and walk away, but Luhan grabbed his arm. As he did, Kyungsoo’s shirt pulled to the side, just enough that Luhan spotted the black mark at the top of his spine. Kyungsoo pulled away, but before he could leave, Luhan punched him. From the angle he was at, he was only able to hit Kyungsoo’s cheek, but it was enough to get his attention.

He turned on Luhan quickly, eyes flashing solid black, and as he did, three pieces of the stone floor launched themselves free, hitting the wall in three very distinct places around Luhan’s head. Luhan went rigid, then threw a hand forward, hitting Kyungsoo square in the chest. Kyungsoo stumbled backwards, then moved towards Luhan again, the wall behind him cracking.

“What are you going to do, Kyungsoo?” Luhan inhaled slowly, then looked Kyungsoo in the eyes. “Going to hurt me? Going to kill me?” Kyungsoo didn’t respond. “You’re one of them. You’re one of the hell-touched, like Minseok and Zitao and Jongdae and Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo nodded slowly, the black in his eyes fading slightly.

“I’m not going to hurt Jongin. I love him.” He exhaled quietly. “The fact that I’m hell-touched doesn’t change that. My loyalty is to Sivalia, to the White Crown, to Sehun, and to you. Believe me when I say that I want nothing to do with Eishta or the Dark King. They killed my family. They wanted to kill _me_. I hate them, just as much as you do.”

Luhan looked at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay. I trust you.”

Kyungsoo looked him straight in the eyes. “And I will never break that trust.”

***

Minseok pulled away from the glass ball without a word, a soft smile on his face. He walked to the window, looking out across the now dark land, hands on his hips. Kyungsoo, for all that Minseok despised him, played his part well; they would never question the ever-loyal Crown Commander, even if they knew what he was.

Behind him, he could hear Baekhyun speaking quietly to Zitao, but he couldn’t be bothered to actually listen to what he was saying. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Baekhyun, and Zitao, and Jongdae were home, safe, and that Prince Luhan believed that he had won.

Baekhyun had been right, they had underestimated the Sivalian Crown. They hadn’t known enough before he had sent them to the palace, and it had very nearly been disastrous. Luhan very easily could have justified killing the three of them.

Part of the blame lay on Minseok’s shoulders, he knew that. He should have exercised more caution, before sending them. He should have assumed the worst. It was in his nature, to prepare for every possible outcome; he had assumed too much about this.

He knew that most of the blame, however, was on Kyungsoo himself. He was distracted, by the servant, the god-touched, and it had made him lax. They should have known about the god-touched, because Kyungsoo should have told them. Minseok should have understood how dangerous the situation was, because Kyungsoo should have informed him. He hadn’t, and Minseok had ensured that punishment would follow his mistake.

But this was far from over. They knew now, just how many god-touched walked amongst the White Crown. They understood what it was that they were facing, what they would face again. More importantly, he knew their weakness. He had seen it, through Kyungsoo’s eyes, even if it was for little more than a second. It had been enough. The Ravens wouldn’t fail twice. He would make sure of it.

“Minseok?”

“My love.” Minseok held still, as Jongdae approached him, and hugged him from behind, pressing his face into Minseok’s shoulder. “Tell me honestly, did he hurt you?” Jongdae shook his head once. “My love, do not lie to me. You lied to me when I first asked the question; will you continue to do so?” Jongdae didn’t speak. “Why are you protecting him?”

After a moment, Jongdae moved, to stand in front of Minseok. There was a strange, sad look in his eyes, but before Minseok could question it, Jongdae tugged his shirt off, folding it over his arm. Instantly, Minseok’s eyes went to the mark on his chest, solid black etched over his sternum, the vague shape of a scorpion, unmarred.

Except for the tiny – barely noticeable – glint of white, where the scorpion’s eye might be. Minseok’s eyes flashed dangerously, and before he knew what was happening, he had stepped forward, pinning Jongdae to the wall. Jongdae made a soft noise, and Minseok was aware that Baekhyun and Zitao had stopped speaking, were probably watching the exchange, but he didn’t care. Minseok’s eyes went to Jongdae’s, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. “It was Sehun?” Jongdae nodded once. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to do something stupid.” The words were quiet, and after a moment, Minseok pulled Jongdae against his chest. “I’m sorry—”

“Hush.” Minseok kissed Jongdae’s jaw gently, then pulled away. “I’ll kill him for it.”

“I know.”

Minseok smiled, kissed Jongdae once, then turned to the others. “Both of you, out.” Baekhyun opened his mouth to say something, but Zitao grabbed his wrist and dragged him away, leaving them alone. When the door shut, Minseok grabbed Jongdae by the waist and kissed him again. Jongdae whined, arms winding around Minseok’s shoulders, gripping tightly.

“I love you, Minseok.”

“I love you, too. More than anything. You know that.” Jongdae nodded quickly, and before he knew what was happening, he was flat on his back on the bed, gazing up at Minseok. “I adore you.” He leaned down, to kiss Jongdae again, harder than before.

“Yeah?” Minseok nodded once. “Show me.”

***

Far from the palaces of Eishta and Sivalia, deep in the mountains of the nation of Eliria, Yixing felt something snap in the great web of the world. He woke from his half-sleep with a sharp cry, pain lancing through his chest and down his spine, branching to every limb. When it faded to a more tolerable level, he stood from where he had been seated, cross-legged, and left the room.

He collapsed to his knees beside the pool, eyes searching the depths for something, an answer, anything that might explain this. Before him, he could see the threads of fate, the great web stretched far and wide, each and every person trapped inside.

The break was hard to find, but it was there, hidden beneath a tangle of others. As soon as he saw it, he reached out, hands sliding into the water. A moment passed, then two, then finally, he felt the threads under his hands, pulsing with a strange, powerful energy. He felt the mark on his face burn with it, trying to contain the power, and it took him a few moments to quiet his own power down, so he could really feel what was happening.

The threads spoke softly, voices barely audible even in the silence of his mind. But Yixing had learned, long ago, not to listen for words, but rather, for feelings.

_Betrayal. Anguish. Hatred. Shame. Anger. Forsaken. Pain. Grief. Rejection._

_Pain._

_Death_.

Yixing swallowed but didn’t release. He knew there was little more that he would hear from them; there was little more that he, mortal, would be able to comprehend.

After a few seconds, he sucked in a breath, then pressed his face into the water, eyes opening quickly. There, barely, he could make out the image of one person. A man, on his knees, brought there by exhaustion and pain.

Behind him, another. This one, Yixing had seen before. Kyungsoo, the Crown Commander.

A third, unknown.

He reeled back quickly, sucking in a breath. As he did, the threads slipped from his hands, and he pulled his hands from the water, holding them up before his face. He was trembling.

_You think I don’t feel guilty for not immediately running off to Eishta to help him?_

_You think I don’t wish I could go save him, right now?_

“Is that what you want? You want me to help him?” His words went unanswered. They usually did; the gods spoke very little, choosing instead to let their listeners find the meaning for themselves. “You would have me betray my country, to help the Dark King? The hell-touched Dark King, I’ll remind you?”

_Anguish. Pain. Shame. Grief. Hatred. Pain. Betrayal. Pain._

“I’ve told Kris, I’ll tell you; there is much pain and grief in this world; I cannot fix all of it. Surely there is something—”

Before he could finish, he was thrown backwards, away from the pool, and into a wall. When he opened his eyes, a woman stood before him, nude.

Yixing looked away quickly, bowing his head. He bit his tongue, swallowing the rest of his remark, instead waiting for her to speak. When she did, her voice echoed, not only through the cave, but also in his head, vibrating with the power of a thousand stars.

“We chose you for a reason.” He felt a reply build in his throat, but he held his tongue. “We chose you because you were willing to listen, willing to follow, willing to obey. We chose you because you had the heart that no one else did. We chose you, not because of the power you were gifted, but because of what you are even without it.” She came forward and knelt beside him, green-tinted skin glowing faintly in the darkness. “You turned away your brother. Will you do the same to me?”

After a moment, Yixing shook his head. “No. If—if you insist, then I will go.”

“They will send for you. The Dark King will summon you to his court. When he does, you will go.”

“Alone?”

She slid a hand under his jaw, tipping his head back so their gazes could lock. “Have I ever sent you alone?” After a moment, he shook his head once. “When you stop in Sivalia for the night, there will be someone waiting for you. He will ask to leave with you. Take him to Eishta.”

“I will. Is he—”

“You shall see.” She withdrew, fading into shadows quickly. Yixing exhaled, letting a breath loose that he hadn’t realized he was holding. A moment passed, then he got to his feet, journeying deeper into the caves as he did. When he reached the very back cavern, where a cascade of water hid the exit, he paused, listening intently. Only rarely did he leave the caves, for good reason. Bearing the mark of the gods on his face had only ever ended poorly for him, outside of his home.

When he stepped through the water, he took a moment to gaze at the moons above, bright enough to illuminate the forest around this place. It had been a long time, since he’d seen the moons, since he’d left the walls of his home. Too long.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he heard them approach. They were outsiders; they didn’t belong in this forest, in these mountains, on this land. They were fools, for thinking they could walk here unchecked, unharmed. There were few who could, for if the land didn’t catch them, then the Wolves did; if the Wolves couldn’t, by some miracle, then they were faced with the Speaker.

The Breaker.

The Champion.

If, by some stroke of luck – or, less likely, the will of the gods – they managed to find him, he would listen. He would hear their stories, their tales, their reasons, their pleas. And, if it pleased him, he would help them. More likely than not, they ended up dead, a pile of corpses left to the crows.

Yixing was one of the few who had survived an encounter with him. There was nothing he feared more than having to face him again.

“You there!”

Yixing’s eyes rose slowly, to find the man standing on the side of the river, watching him. Broad and burly, slow and stupid. Eishtan. Yixing raised an eyebrow but held his tongue.

“You live around here?” Yixing inclined his head slightly, and the man relaxed slightly. “My company and I, we’re looking for someone. Might you be able to help us find him?” Yixing didn’t have an answer for that, as a cold dread settled in his stomach. He was starting to get the feeling that perhaps they weren’t here for the Speaker. “He calls himself the Seer. The Dark King wants to see him. Know him?”

Yixing exhaled quietly. “I’ve heard of him.”

“Really? Do you know where we might find him?”

After a moment, Yixing nodded once. “Follow the river. A few miles down, there’s a cave. He lives there. I’ll warn you, though, he’s dangerous.”

The man – and the others who followed him – left quickly. Foolish. As soon as they were gone, Yixing ducked back under the waterfall, breathing hard. He felt bad, about sending those men towards the Breaker – to their deaths – but they would have died soon enough. The Dark King would have seen to that, as soon as they returned to Eishta, with or without Yixing.

_Seer. Soul-Reader. Web-Walker._

All names that Yixing had found himself given. Names that he hated to bear. Names that had alienated him, further than he already had been. Names that, at one time, he would have given anything to be rid of.

But they were part of him. He saw what others couldn’t, he read what others would sooner have ignored, and he walked on the Web of Life, where his brothers, his peers, only dreamed of going. He had touched the threads of fate. This world needed him.


	10. Chapter 10

“What did I do to piss off Kyungsoo?”

“Well, you did punch him.” Sehun looked up at Luhan, exhaustion clear on his face. “That might do the trick.” Luhan shot him a look, then sat down across from him. “Luhan, I was kidding.”

“I know.” Luhan looked at his hands, then at Sehun again. “Before I punched him. When he left your office, I was waiting in the hallway, and he gave me a _look_ , like I was the last person he wanted to see. And I want to know why. What did you two talk about?”

Sehun sighed, then ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep his anxiety from showing in his eyes. “It—he is of the belief that you shouldn’t have given the Ravens back to Minseok.” Luhan nodded slowly. “And while I don’t disagree with his opinion entirely, I think that he’d blowing the situation out of proportion. I don’t think, now that Minseok has seen that we are not the Sivalia that he remembers, now that he has seen that you are unwilling to compromise, that he’s going to react the way Kyungsoo thinks he will. I think that he has come to realize – or at least that he will realize very soon – that if he wants to avoid another war, then he will have to learn to work with the White Crown, instead of against it.”

Luhan nodded, then reached across the table, to take Sehun’s hands. “I love you.”

“I—I love you too.”

Luhan smiled. “I’ll talk to Kyungsoo. We’ll figure this out. It’ll work out just fine. Okay?” Sehun nodded slowly, squeezing Luhan’s hands. “I—so I know you’re probably sick of seeing my family, but my brother, Yixing, he’s coming to visit for some reason. I, um, I already told him that it’s okay. If that’s not, I can—”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” After a moment, Sehun stood up, and came around the table, to stand by Luhan. “He’s the one who—” he gestured vaguely towards his face, and Luhan nodded.

“Yes. He, well. He ran off into the mountains. It’s… his relationship with my parents is a little bit weird, his relationship with the rest of Eliria is even weirder, but he’s a very sweet person. I love him. I miss him.” Luhan stood, and when he did, Sehun hugged him gently. “Can we go to bed?” Sehun nodded, allowed Luhan to pull him out of the dining room, and back to Sehun’s room. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Luhan.” Sehun kissed the top of his head gently.

“Can you—will you show me your eyes?” Sehun snorted, and after a moment, he closed his eyes, then opened them, revealing bright white irises. Luhan giggled, then cupped Sehun’s jaw in his hands, leaned closer to kiss him gently. “They’re so pretty. You’re so pretty.” He nuzzled at Sehun’s cheek gently, then kissed him again.

“Show me yours.” Luhan smiled brightly, then his eyes flashed blue. Sehun wrapped his arms around Luhan’s waist, hugging him close, then sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling Luhan into his lap. Luhan hummed softly, then kissed Sehun again. “It occurred to me, the other day,” Sehun paused, adjusting Luhan’s position until they were both comfortable, “that I know very little about your life. Or about you.”

Luhan chuckled. “What do you want to know, then?” He ran his fingers through Sehun’s hair, still smiling at him.

“Anything. Tell me.”

Luhan kissed him gently, then wrapped his arms around Sehun’s neck. “Well, you know that I’m the youngest of three. Kris is the oldest, he’s the Crown Prince, obviously. Yixing is the middle child, he’s a couple years older than me, and we were really close growing up. Because I’m the youngest, I didn’t have to, you know, learn all of the things that Kris did, growing up, which meant I had a lot of free time.” Luhan snickered. “And instead of doing what other kids in that scenario would have – you know, having fun – I voluntarily went to Kris’ lessons with him.”

Sehun snorted, fingers slipping underneath Luhan’s shirt. “That sounds like you.”

“That’s how I know so much, you know, about… war and stuff. Because I learned everything that a Crown Prince of Eliria learns, and then some. Because I didn’t have to do everything that Kris did, I could spend my free time learning about things that I thought were interesting.” He paused, as Sehun pushed his shirt up and over his head. “Mm. I learned to ride a horse not long after I learned to walk. My first horse was given to me by the stablemaster when I turned twelve; he’s the last son of the horse that I learned to ride. His name’s Bubble.”

“That’s so sweet.”

Luhan smiled, then pulled Sehun’s shirt over his head, leaned down to kiss his shoulder gently. “When I was fifteen, Yixing left. He went to this old temple in the mountains, that the old god-touched, the ones that served the gods, lived in. I… I visited him when I could, but, you know, I was fifteen, my parents really didn’t like the idea of me wandering off into the mountains to try and find him, because no one really knows where that place is.”

Sehun leaned closer, to kiss Luhan’s neck, mouthing at his skin gently as Luhan continued speaking. “When I found out that my mother had… well, I told her that she’d sold me off, to you, because it was the best way to explain the situation. Anyway, when I found out about that, I was furious. I didn’t want to marry you. I didn’t want to marry _anyone_ , but least of all someone from Sivalia, least of all someone who was going to take a throne. I didn’t want the power, I had never wanted the power. And… no offense, Sehun, I hated you. I hadn’t ever met you, but I _hated_ you, so much.”

“I talked to Kris, about you.” Luhan hummed quietly, as Sehun mouthed at his collarbone. “He said you threw a fit when your mother told you about me? On the morning that you left?”

“Yeah.” Luhan ran his hands through Sehun’s hair again. “I—she wanted me to go in the carriage, so that I was _presentable_. My outfit was… I mean, yeah, it was really pretty, I looked really good in it, but it wasn’t _me_. Neither is riding in a carriage. I’m not that kind of person, as you might have noticed.” Sehun snorted quietly. “So, I put on an outer layer that would… well, the idea was that it would protect me from the weather. And then I rode Bubble, all the way here. My mother was pissed. It was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Sehun kissed Luhan on the mouth once more, before he scooted backwards, pulling Luhan with him. He rolled, to lay Luhan on his back, and kissed his cheek gently, before slipping down, to kiss down his neck, onto his chest. “He said you don’t like being touched.”

Luhan sucked in a sharp breath, going still underneath Sehun. Sehun looked up at him for a moment, worry in his eyes, but before long, Luhan spoke again, his voice quiet. “He’s right. But you already knew that. We already talked about that.” Sehun hummed, as he continued his path down Luhan’s chest, onto his stomach. “When I—when I was a kid, Yixing and I, we snuck out of the palace, and into the city. I’d never been outside the walls before, Yixing had only been once, and so he wanted to show me. And it was fine, until it… wasn’t.

“We ran into trouble with some of the nobles’ kids. We were a lot smaller than them, we were an easy target. They kind of… came out of nowhere? They snuck up on us.” He exhaled quietly, and Sehun took his hands gently, squeezing. “They would probably have killed us, if Kris hadn’t come along when he did. He scared them off – nothing more terrifying than the Crown Prince, holding a sword to your throat, with ten armed guards behind him.

“My mother was pissed about that, too. At the time, I thought it was because she was worried about us dying. I think I’ve come to realize that it was because Kris could have gotten hurt.” Sehun squeezed his hands again, then kissed his hip, then his thigh. “There were a few other incidents, most of which I don’t remember, and I just… I don’t like people grabbing me or touching me when I’m not expecting it.” He paused, deep in thought, for a few moments. “Except you, which you might have noticed. I don’t mind you touching me.”

He went silent, as Sehun kissed down his thigh, and onto his mark. After a moment, he bit down on it, and Luhan arched backwards with a low, pained groan. When Sehun released, he went limp, gasping for breath, then pulled Sehun against his chest. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Sehun kissed him. “How did Jongin come to serve you?”

Luhan chuckled quietly. “You don’t remember?” Sehun didn’t say anything. “You know that my brothers saved him from Joonmyun. He was going to kill Jongin.”

“Because he believed that Jongin had aided a failed attempt on his life.”

“Yes.” Luhan paused, as Sehun thumbed at his mark gently. “They brought Jongin back to Eliria, to serve the royal family. Um. People in my country don’t usually take well to people from yours, for… obvious reasons. They knew that he was of your people from the very start. And usually, they would tolerate his presence, because he was with other servants.”

“But he wasn’t safe from the other servants.”

Luhan shook his head once. “Nope. They didn’t like him. Which usually meant they ignored him. But there was one – I don’t remember his name – who had an inexplicable hatred for Jongin. He went out of his way to make his life miserable. And one day, Jongin snapped. The other servant had pushed him, Jongin shoved him back, and the other guy… attacked him, or so the others told me. I was there, I had been talking to one of the stablehands when it broke out, and I’m lucky that I was. I killed the one who attacked him.”

“And then?”

“I told my family that Jongin no longer worked for them, he worked for me. Kris and Yixing didn’t care; my mother was angry. But that’s not unusual, when it comes to things that I’ve done. She’s almost always angry with me, for something.”

They lapsed into silence for a few seconds, then someone knocked on the door. Luhan exhaled slowly, as Sehun glanced over his shoulder. “Come in.”

A moment passed, then the door opened, and Jongin poked his head inside. “I’m sorry to interrupt, your Highnesses. It’s… Chanyeol’s gone?”

Luhan had never seen Sehun move that quickly. One moment, he was on the bed, and the next he was out the door. Luhan looked at Jongin, who bowed his head. “Say that again?”

“He’s just… gone? I was—well, I was waiting for Kyungsoo, and when he came back, he asked if I knew where he was, and I told him no, and he said that someone had seen Chanyeol leave through the front gates but that no one had seen him in the palace since.” Luhan rolled out of bed slowly, then crossed the room. Jongin followed him down the hallway. “I don’t understand why he would just _leave_.”

“Perhaps,” they both startled when Joonmyun rounded the corner, Sehun at his side, “because he realized he could no longer hide what he was from the royal family.”

Luhan’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, he could no longer hide what he was? What was he that needed hiding?”

Even as he asked the question, he could guess the answer. “He’s hell-touched, Luhan.” Sehun murmured the words, folded his arms over his chest. “Which I knew. Which I’ve known, for a very long time. It was one of the first things he told me, when he joined my staff.”

“Why did you _hire_ him, if you knew?”

Sehun looked at Joonmyun with fury in his eyes. “Because I, unlike you, am capable of judging a person based on their character and their actions rather than what they were born as.” As he spoke, his eyes flashed white for a split second. Out of the corner of his eye, Luhan saw Joonmyun’s eyes flash in response, a vibrant violet color. “Regardless of why I hired him, he’s gone now. I’d quite like to know where he is.”

“Well, let’s think that one through.” Joonmyun’s voice dripped venom as he spoke. “We had three hell-touched from Eishta in our dungeon. Very soon after, Luhan, and Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol, and me, all went to the Dark King to return those hell-touched to their leader. Now, I know that this might be hard for you to follow, Sehun, because you’re so inclined to believe that he’s a good person, but maybe, just _maybe_ , he realized where his loyalties truly lie.”

“Joonmyun, shut your mouth.”

“Or _what_?”

Sehun punched him in the face.

Joonmyun reeled back, and a moment later, he lunged at Sehun. He would have hit him, but Jongin snapped his fingers, disappearing from where he was behind Luhan, and appearing between Joonmyun and Sehun. Joonmyun collided with Jongin, who stumbled backwards, but stayed between them, fear on his face, but his shoulders squared, an angry clench in his jaw.

When Joonmyun realized that it was Jongin he was looking at, he went still, eyes still violet. Jongin looked him dead in the eyes, his own gaze tinted indigo. “Back away.”

“How dare you—”

“Do as he says, Joonmyun.” After a moment, Joonmyun stepped back, shooting a look at Luhan, then at Sehun. “Sehun, calm down. This doesn’t need to be violent. Jongin, come over here, please.” Jongin obeyed quietly, came to stand behind Luhan.

“How do we find him?”

Luhan exhaled quietly, then looked Sehun in the eyes. “I think I know someone who might be able to help.”

***

“What do you think about him?”

“The King?”

“Mhm.”

Chanyeol sighed quietly, then came to stand behind the Prince. “I—well, I’ve met him once in my life, and it was, like, a week ago. He’s been at war with my country for a long time. He doesn’t take well to being backed into a corner, which is what your brother tried to do.”

Yixing nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s how Luhan is. Most of the time, it works out. Sometimes, it gets him in trouble. I think this situation is more of the latter, don’t you?” Chanyeol nodded. “Regardless of my brother’s behavior, I think you’re right about the King. He’s a—I hesitate to say that he’s a bad person, but that’s the impression I’ve gotten from many people. He believes that his way is right, and that everyone should either fear him or follow him, perhaps both.”

Without another word, Yixing continued forward, stepping out of the alley and into the streets. He could see the palace gates from here; he had no doubt that the guards stationed there could see them. He didn’t bother trying to hide or conceal his identity as he approached; they knew he was coming. He had been summoned here.

When they reached the gates, one of the guards stepped forward. “Prince Yixing?”

“Just Yixing is fine, thank you.”

“Of course, Sir. The Dark King welcomes you here, however we must insist that your companion remain outside of the—”

“He stays with me. No exceptions.” The guards looked at each other, and the one looked like he wanted to argue. “If you’d rather he stay out here, then the King can seek counsel elsewhere. Either Chanyeol goes with me, or we both leave Eishta.” After a moment, the guard nodded, and stepped aside. Yixing brushed past him, Chanyeol at his shoulder, and they made their way up the stairs, to the main doors of the palace.

“Why doesn’t he want you here?”

“I put my hands on one of his hell-touched. I held him captive while Luhan negotiated the end of the war. He would see anyone who laid their hands on them hung for it.” Yixing chuckled quietly, as he pushed the doors open, stepping into the palace.

As they crossed the threshold, Yixing met the gaze of the individual waiting for them. He was tall, taller than Yixing, with a darker tan than he had expected for someone from Eishta. His shirt was sleeveless, baring well-muscled arms to the air. If not for the angry clench in his jaw, the harsh line of his shoulders, Yixing might have called his features delicate. When he spoke, his voice was soft, accented. “You’re here to see the King?”

Yixing’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. “We are.” 

The accent was familiar. He didn’t know why, couldn’t place it quite yet, but he had heard one similar, not too long ago. “If you’ll follow me.” He turned on his heel, and as he did, Yixing’s eyes darted to the mark on his forearm, stark black against his skin. In that brief second, he couldn’t quite make out a shape. Chanyeol saw it too, Yixing could read that in his barely-silenced intake of breath, but he – blessedly – kept his mouth shut.

They wove their way through the hallways of the palace, until they reached a small dining room. The man pushed the door open, gesturing them through with one hand. Yixing led Chanyeol inside, a strange feeling settling in his gut when he saw the King. The door shut behind them, but Yixing paid it no mind, as he met the Dark King’s gaze.

He was standing by the fire place, leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. There was a strange calm about him, at odds with the fury written in the line of his mouth. “Welcome to Eishta, your Highness.”

Yixing was sure his discomfort at the use of the title showed. “Please, your Majesty, call me Yixing. I’m no longer a Prince, at least according to my mother.”

The King huffed out a quiet laugh, the humor not showing on his face. “Very well, Yixing it is.” His gaze fell then to Chanyeol, who stiffened when their gazes locked. “You brought a guest.”

“I did.”

The King cocked his head to the side in thought, before he spoke again, a new edge of danger in his voice. “I called you here for a reason, as I’m sure you’re aware. Before I show you why exactly I asked you to come, though, I’d like to talk to you.” Yixing inclined his head slightly, and the King straightened, moved to sit at the table. Yixing mirrored his actions, leaving Chanyeol at the door. “If you don’t mind—”

“He stays.”

The King’s eyebrow twitched upwards slightly, but he nodded. “Of course.” He placed his hands on the table, palms down, before he spoke, each word carefully chosen before it was said. “You are god-touched, like your brothers.”

“I am.” Everyone who looked at him knew that.

“I’m told you have a penchant for healing others.”

“I—that’s one way to put it.” Not a good way. It wasn’t a talent, it wasn’t something he had gotten lucky with. It was a Gift, just as much as it was a curse.

“Which god?” Yixing swallowed hard, gaze flicking away quickly. The King leaned forward slightly, clearing his throat. “Which god do you follow, Yixing?”

Yixing bowed his head for a moment, then looked the King in the eyes. When he did, he found that his eyes had gone silver, glistening in the darkness. In response, he allowed his own to shift to green, taking the King by surprise. “You’re going to despise the answer no matter what I say. Why does it matter?” The King didn’t like that answer, Yixing could read it in his eyes. “Eridan. Now, let me see the one you brought me here to see.”

The King got to his feet a moment later, and Yixing did the same. They made their way out of the dining room, back through twisting hallways, enough that Yixing wouldn’t have been able to get out if he tried. They came to a halt outside of a door, where the man from before, the tall one, was waiting for them. He looked at them for a moment and the King nodded once. The door swung open without a word. Yixing bit his lip, then stepped through, the man at his heels. Chanyeol made to follow, but Yixing waved him off with one hand.

The shift in energy hit him like a ton of bricks to the chest. He could feel his power recoiling from the energy hovering in the air.

The man came to stand behind the other individual in the room. He looked at Yixing for a long moment, before he swallowed hard. “This is why you’re here.” Yixing approached him slowly, eyes raking over the body in front of him.

“He’s trapped in time?” The man nodded once. “Did you do that?” Another nod. “Mm.” He crouched down, to examine the wounds across the back of the person in front of him. “Where’s his mark?” The man pointed, wordless, and Yixing looked at the person’s arm quickly. What had once been flawless, black swirls, was now a mess of withered gray drowning in white. Yixing sucked in a quiet breath, then placed his hand over the mark, hovering just above the skin, held there by the barrier formed by the man’s magic. “He has god-touched power in his bloodstream, his soul. It’s been there for a long time.” He leaned closer, to inhale deeply. “Years. Hidden, under his skin. He… he doesn’t have long left, if you drop that.”

“I know.”

“He—”

“Can you help?”

Yixing swallowed, then looked at him. “I can, I think. But it’s—it’s—it’ll be close. A race against time. I don’t know how quickly that poison is going to kill him. It’s going to take time to draw it out of him, time that I don’t know if we have.”

“And?”

“And if we don’t have that time, then he dies. If we don’t have the time down to the second, then he dies.” Yixing straightened, the energy in the room flexing around him. “Most importantly, if I don’t have the power to draw it out of him, then I die, and he dies. That’s one in particular that I’d like to avoid.” The man nodded once. “What’s your name?”

“What?”

“Your _name_. What is it?”

“Zitao.”

He knew that name. Where had he heard that _name_? “I’m Yixing.” He circled back around to stand in front of the body. “And who’s this?”

“Hoseok.”

Yixing nodded once. “Okay.” He placed his hands over Hoseok’s jaw, tilted his head back slightly. “I’m going to need time, to figure out just how much this poison has taken from him, just how long it’s been in him. I need to know, before we can do anything.”

“I’ll talk to Minseok. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” Zitao slipped out of the room, as Yixing closed his eyes, allowing his power to shift through the air, pressing against Zitao’s gently, curling around Hoseok’s body. “Come on, open up. Let me see you.” His magic pressed closer, laying over Zitao’s, the two energies mixing together easily. He inhaled, and as he did, the world shifted, all color sucking free, except for the small spark of color in the center of Hoseok’s chest. Yixing released the breath he was holding, and a moment later, he could see the thread extending from Hoseok’s chest. He could also see, quite vividly, the silvery-white lines of Hoseok’s blood vessels, glimmering in the darkness.

He snapped out of it when he heard the door shut behind him. Zitao was standing by the door, watching him closely, and when Yixing turned, Zitao opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, Yixing held up a hand, silencing him. “Three days. Give me three days to figure it out, and then I’ll do what I can to save him.”

“Thank you.”

Yixing smiled slightly. All at once, something clicked in his mind. “You’re _Elirian_.” Zitao nodded once. “You’re—you’re the Crow! The Iron Crow who turned Raven.” Another slow nod. “Kris mentioned that you—you’re the one who wants to save Hoseok. Not Minseok. It’s all you.” One more nod; this one left Zitao looking uncomfortable. “Can I ask you one more question?” After a few moments, Zitao nodded one last time. “Why did you leave?”

Zitao’s jaw clenched, fury sparking in his eyes. He held silent for a moment, then glanced at Hoseok, gaze going to the floor before he spoke. “I had no choice.” He looked at Yixing quickly. “I failed. I was given a task by the Elirian Crown, and I failed. I would have been tried and executed upon my return, so I fled. I was in Eishta, when a group of Ravens recognized the scar on my palm. They… they do not take kindly to Elirian people. They attacked me, and would have killed me, but their commander decided that because I had put up enough of a fight, they would give me a chance. They offered me a choice: join the Dark Ravens, or die. I chose the former. I chose to live.

“I was initiated into the Ravens shortly thereafter. A month later, the former King, may he rest in peace, found out that I was hell-touched. He recruited me to an elite task force of the Dark Ravens. We formed groups of four – one Hunter, three Guardians.” He paused, scuffing his shoe on the ground. “I was – am – one of the Hunters. Baekhyun and Jongdae and Hoseok were my Guardians. We were- we were out on a mission, I was attacked, and Hoseok jumped between me and the blast that would have killed me. And it—it did that to him.”

Zitao looked away quickly, and Yixing glanced back at Hoseok. “I—his soul, then, it was unharmed before that happened?”

“I—I think so. He never showed any signs of the poisoning before that night.”

Yixing swallowed. “Zitao.”

“Mm.”

“I am sorry. I will do what I can, to save him.” Zitao nodded slowly. “You love him.”

“Yes.”

They lapsed into silence for the better part of a minute, before Yixing spoke again. “May I be alone with him? I’ll send for you, should I need anything else.”

“I’ll be… I’ll be outside, waiting.” Yixing nodded slowly, and Zitao turned, to leave the room, but paused in the doorway. “Yixing, if you can’t save him—”

“I won’t kill you, Zitao.”

He could read the disappointment in the energy flexing around him. “I—alright.”


	11. Chapter 11

_I failed._

_I had no choice_.

Zitao exhaled, the noise loud in the silence. Baekhyun’s breath hitched and he shifted slightly, grip on Zitao loosening. Zitao smiled at him rather fondly, then extracted himself from his grip, and rolled out of bed, leaving the room quickly.

 _It’ll be close. A race against time. If we don’t have that time, then he dies_.

He knew that. He knew that trying to save Hoseok would nearly kill him, if not kill him outright. He had known that for a long time, since the accident had happened. So why did it matter now?

“I see I’m not the only one whom sleep alludes tonight.” Zitao startled, whipped around to find Yixing leaning against the wall, staring out the window. He looked exhausted, brows drawn together slightly. When he met Zitao’s gaze, he offered him a gentle smile, then inclined his head slightly, towards the window. Zitao hesitated, then stepped closer, came to stand a few feet from Yixing, leaning against the window in a similar fashion. “So, tell me. What is it that keeps a man like you awake?”

“A—a man like me?” Yixing nodded once. “What does that mean?”

Yixing’s eyes narrowed slightly, head tipping to the side in thought. “You aren’t lonely; I saw the pretty little thing that you took to bed with you. You aren’t in danger, you serve the Dark King. You seem to have your life figured out. So,” he paused, “what keeps you up at night?”

Zitao looked away, his eyes on the ground. “It’s been a long day. There’s a lot on my mind.” Yixing hummed quietly, didn’t say anything further. After a moment, Zitao sighed quietly, jaw clenching anxiously. “I’m not—Baekhyun’s not—we aren’t together. He just… we’re friends. Friends who… you know.” Yixing nodded slowly. “It’s just… this whole thing, with Hoseok? And you, being here. It’s a lot.” Yixing hummed quietly, looked back out the window. “Minseok put me in charge of… of you. And Chanyeol, but mostly you. Anything you need, it’s my responsibility to make sure you have it. That, on top of my other job, it’s… it’s a lot.”

“What is your other job, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Zitao swallowed. “I—I’m really not supposed to talk about it.” Yixing nodded. “I’m Minseok’s spymaster. We’re—we’re coordinating a few spies in—gods, I’m really not supposed to be telling you this. You’re—”

“Elirian?” After a moment, Zitao nodded once. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m standing in the heart of Eishta’s palace. I’m _helping_ Eishta’s King. I—that isn’t exactly the most pro-Elirian thing I’ve done in my life, not that I’ve done a lot of those things. I told Minseok, I’ll tell you; I’m not a Prince any more. I’m just Yixing. And trust me, when I say that betraying you is the last thing on my mind, I mean it.”

Zitao looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “I believe you, you know.” Yixing made a thoughtful noise in his throat. “We have spies in Eliria, and in Sivalia. I’m sure both countries have their own spies here. I—we got some sensitive information, the other day, and I’m in charge of making sure that we put that information to good use.” Yixing had moved closer, and when Zitao looked up, he was surprised by how close he was. “Yixing—”

“You’re very pretty, you know.”

“I’m… I’m not—”

Yixing clicked his tongue quietly. “You are. Very pretty.” He pulled away a moment later. “You should be sleeping.” Zitao didn’t move. “Pretty thing like you needs his beauty sleep.”

Zitao swallowed hard and Yixing’s eyes followed the movement of his throat. “Please stop calling me that.”

“You don’t like when I call you pretty?” Zitao didn’t respond to that, his eyes on the floor again. “Zitao, if I’ve offended you, then I apologize. I won’t do it again—”

“That’s not the problem.” Zitao looked up at him quickly, jaw clenching. He could feel his throat tightening, tears threatening to well up in his eyes. “That’s not it at all.” Yixing opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Zitao spoke again, voice cracking. “The problem, Yixing, is that I _like_ when you call me that, and I _can’t_.”

Yixing’s brow furrowed. “Is that so?” Zitao nodded quickly, sniffling softly, trying not to cry. “You are very pretty, Zitao. I think you’re very attractive.” Zitao’s lower lip trembled slightly. “Why are you so upset, sweetheart? You’re on the verge of tears, you shouldn’t be upset.”

“Please stop—”

Yixing stepped closer, backing Zitao into the window, one hand resting on the glass beside his head, the other one on his jaw. Zitao let out a soft sob, one tear slipping free and sliding down his cheek. Yixing brushed it away with his thumb, genuine concern in his eyes. “Sweetheart.” Zitao shook his head quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. More tears slid free and Yixing made a soft noise in his throat. “Please look at me.” Zitao opened his eyes after a moment, their gazes locking. “You’re so beautiful, even when you’re crying.”

“Yixing, I’m _not_ , I’m not, I’m not _pretty_ , please stop calling me that, please—”

Yixing hushed him quietly, swiping a thumb over his lower lip. “I’m going to kiss you.” Zitao made a quiet noise in his throat, lower lip jutting out slightly. Yixing leaned forward a moment later, and pressed his mouth to Zitao’s gently. The kiss was short; a moment later, he withdrew, watching Zitao closely. When Zitao opened his eyes, he looked lost for words. “Sweetheart.”

“Please kiss me again.” Yixing smiled, then leaned in to kiss him again, much the same as he had before. This time, when he pulled away, Zitao was crying. Yixing tried to pull away, and as he stepped back, Zitao whined, his words a soft murmur. “Don’t leave. Please. Stay with me.” Yixing smiled, then stepped closer, pressing gently against Zitao’s body, kissing him one more time. “Keep—Yixing, please keep kissing me, please.” As he spoke, his pleas slipped into Elirian, the words awkward but fluent. His fingers fisted in Yixing’s shirt, holding him close.

“We should—”

“Kiss me.” Yixing hushed him, then obeyed, this one slightly longer than the others. “Yixing—”

He cut off when they heard a door shut somewhere down the hallway. Yixing glanced down the hallway, then looked at Zitao, held a finger up to his lips, hushing Zitao quietly. Zitao nodded quickly, eyes darting to the side quickly. After a few seconds, Yixing let out a quiet breath, then took Zitao’s hand. “Come with me.” He breathed the words against Zitao’s jaw, then led him down the hallway.

He pulled Zitao into a room, and pushed the door shut behind them, then pressed him against the door. “You’re still crying.”

Zitao wiped his tears away quickly. “I’m sorry, I just—I don’t know why. I don’t know why I keep _crying_ , it’s so stupid, I’m—”

Yixing hushed him, then kissed him gently. “It’s okay. It’s okay to cry.”

Zitao choked on a sob, body curving forward, and Yixing held him upright, hands gentle on his body. “I just—I’ve never—I don’t _cry_ , I don’t ever do that—” His knees gave out, and they both slid to the floor, Yixing settling in between his thighs. “I—”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. It’s okay to cry, you’re okay. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

“I don’t need to be _taken care of_ , I can take care of myself—”

“I know that you can. I’m asking you to let me do this for you. Please?” Yixing kissed him gently, leaned closer to nose at his cheek, then his jaw. “Let me do this for you.”

“If Minseok—”

“He’s not going to catch us. No one is going to catch us. You don’t have to worry. It’s going to be okay.” Yixing pulled Zitao closer, arms wrapping around his waist gently. “Sweetheart, it’s okay.”

“Why are you calling me that?”

Yixing frowned, turned his head to speak quietly into Zitao’s ear. “Do you want me to stop?” Zitao held still, his breathing labored, and after a few seconds, he shook his head once. “Come with me.” He stood up slowly, pulling Zitao with him, and led him towards the bed.

“Yixing, I don’t—I don’t want—”

“Shh, no, I wouldn’t.” He stopped, one hand hovering over Zitao’s jaw again. “I wouldn’t, sweetheart. I won’t.” He brushed Zitao’s tears off of his face, smiling at him. “I won’t. I won’t, I promise you. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” Zitao choked out a sob, and Yixing hushed him quietly. “If you ask me to leave, angel, I will, but let me get you to bed, first. Let me make sure you’re comfortable. Please.”

Zitao blinked quickly, trying to stop himself from crying, and then he nodded quickly. “Yeah, okay. Okay.” Yixing smiled, then kissed him gently, brushing his hair out of the way. “Please—”

“Tell me, angel.”

“I can’t—don’t leave me.” Zitao grabbed at his shirt again, dragging him closer, gasping for breath. Yixing’s smile softened, and he kissed Zitao’s cheek, then leaned down to kiss his jaw gently. “Please don’t leave me alone, I don’t want to be alone, Yixing, please—”

“I won’t, angel, I’m not going to leave.” With gentle hands, Yixing guided him towards the bed. He sat down, pulling Zitao with him, adjusting their positions until Zitao was on his side, curled around Yixing’s body, face pressed into his neck. His hands were still fisted in Yixing’s shirt. Yixing moved his hands slowly, one coming to cup the back of Zitao’s neck, the other one wrapping around his waist gently. “It’s okay, angel. You’re okay.”

The room was filled with little more than the sound of Zitao’s quiet sniffles for the better part of the next ten minutes. Yixing’s fingers were toying with the hair at the back of his neck, his other hand scratching gently at Zitao’s lower back. When Zitao spoke, he was so quiet that Yixing nearly missed what he said, the words mumbled against his neck.

“Is it really okay?” Yixing’s brow furrowed, and Zitao must have sensed his confusion. “To cry? Is that really… okay?” Yixing nodded once. “And it’s okay to—to want to be taken care of?”

Yixing pulled away just enough to turn his head and look at him. “Sweetheart, of course, that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Zitao looked like he doubted those words. Yixing’s brow furrowed, and he leaned forward, their foreheads pressing together. “There’s nothing wrong with tears, angel. Nothing wrong with wanting someone to take care of you.” Zitao’s eyes were wide, filled with tears. “I don’t ever want you to forget that, sweetheart.”

Zitao blinked quickly, looked away before glancing up at Yixing. “I—why are you doing this? I just met you _yesterday_ , I barely know you, you barely know me—”

“I think we both know that that’s not quite true.” Zitao turned his head, avoiding Yixing’s gaze. Yixing’s hand moved, from Zitao’s waist, up to his forearm. He wrapped his fingers around his arm, turning it slowly, to bare the mark against his skin. “Your mark,” he paused, thumb stroking over it gently. Zitao’s breath caught in his throat. “from the moment I met you, I saw it. You aren’t afraid of it. You aren’t afraid of what you _are_.” Zitao blinked slowly. “And in that room, with Hoseok? There are pieces of you written everywhere. Your power is part of you, and you are a part of it, and so, being as I’ve spent the past day down there, I’ve come to understand many of the things that you left down there. Memories, feelings, bits and pieces of yourself that you’d rather no one get to see.” Zitao sniffed delicately and Yixing smiled. “Within an hour of meeting you, you told me why you had left the Iron Crow.”

“Yes.”

“Why did you tell me?” Zitao inhaled sharply. “I’m Elirian. I’m a Prince of Eliria, according to some. I am everything that you are supposed to hate. So, why did you tell me?”

Zitao let out a quiet breath. “Because you… you…” he trailed off, one hand releasing Yixing’s shirt and coming to rest on the side of his face, fingertips resting on the mark. “Because you’re… you—because—” He bit down on his tongue, more tears welling in his eyes, and Yixing’s eyes softened. “Because you know what it’s like.” Yixing blinked slowly. “You know what it’s like to be… to be _hated_ for what you are, to have to prove yourself every fucking time, you _know_ , and you _get it_ , you get _me_.”

Yixing smiled, almost fondly, at him, then released Zitao’s arm, hand returning to his waist. After a few moments, Zitao spoke again, this time, it seemed, more to himself than anyone else. “You know what I’m feeling without me having to say it. You just… _know_.”

***

“Jongin.”

After a moment, he turned to face Luhan, who was glaring at him from the doorway. “Your Highness.”

Luhan’s eyes flashed dangerously, and Jongin almost regretted his tone. Before he could say anything further, Luhan spoke. “What you did—Jongin, that was so incredibly stupid.”

“He was going to hurt Sehun.”

Luhan growled. “I know. That doesn’t mean that it was your place to—”

“He’s my family as much as he is yours, Luhan. Protecting you means that I have to protect him, too. If he had gotten hurt, it would have made things worse. You would have hurt Joonmyun, he would have gotten angry, and things would have spiraled out of control. I stopped that. I didn’t my job.” Jongin looked Luhan in the eyes, trying to calm his racing heart.

“You cannot possibly know that. You have no proof that that would have happened—”

“I know you, I know Sehun, and I know Joonmyun. If _that_ didn’t happen, then something similar would have. But it didn’t, because of me. Because I stopped them.” He looked at Luhan for a moment, then turned away, eyes on the floor. “We have to find—”

“ _We_ will do nothing,” Luhan snapped. “You will continue to do your job. I will continue to do mine. You understand?” After a moment, Jongin nodded, fighting to keep his face neutral. “You stay out of this. It doesn’t concern you.”

He turned on his heel and left the room quickly. As the door slammed behind him, Jongin exhaled, face crumpling with his anger, sadness, disappointment, anguish. He knew that Luhan had every right to make that call, to tell Jongin that it was none of his business. He knew that Luhan was probably _right_ , to keep Jongin out of it.

But _gods_ , he hated it.

He jumped when someone knocked on the door gently. After a moment, he crossed the room, and pulled it open, going still when he found Kyungsoo standing on the other side. “I—Luhan’s out—”

“I’m not looking for him, Jongin, I’m looking for you.” Kyungsoo stepped into the room, and closed the door behind him, leaning back against it as he gazed at Jongin. “We need to talk.”

“I—excuse me?”

Kyungsoo looked away for a moment, squared his shoulders, then met Jongin’s gaze again. “We can’t do this. We can’t _keep_ doing this.” Jongin’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, something dark and twisted and awful curling in his stomach. “I can’t keep doing this with you. Being with you. I can’t.”

“Wh-- _why_?”

The knot tightened when Kyungsoo spoke again, his voice hard, betraying nothing of what he was feeling. “It’s not right, Jongin. You’re not—”

“Not what?” Jongin’s voice was quiet, but there was a dangerous edge to it, an edge that shut Kyungsoo up. “Not _what_ , Kyungsoo? Not good enough for you? Not noble enough for the great Crown Commander of Sivalia?” Kyungsoo looked away quickly. “I get it, it’s not proper for us to… to be together. We’ve known that since day one. You didn’t give a shit about it then, neither of us did. Luhan and Sehun didn’t. So why—” His voice broke for a moment, then he tried again, “why now? Why are you saying this now?”

Kyungsoo swallowed hard, then met Jongin’s gaze, eyes dark and dangerous and angry and everything that Jongin had never wanted to see in them. “We can’t do this anymore.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and pulled the door open, ready to leave. Before he could, though, Jongin spoke, surprised by how strong his voice was, given the situation.

“You’re lying to yourself.” Kyungsoo opened his mouth to speak, but Jongin cut him off. “And one day, you’re going to realize it. You’re going to figure out that you don’t hate me as much as you think you should. One day, you’re going to realize that you love me as much as you said you did, and you’re going to regret this.” Kyungsoo stepped forward, and Jongin moved to hover by the door, ready to close it. “Just don’t come crying back to me when you do.”

Without waiting for a reply, he shut the door.

***

Baekhyun woke alone.

He sniffed delicately, offended, then rolled out of bed and onto his feet. It wasn’t like Zitao to leave him alone, but he’d had something on his mind all night. Something was bothering him, and it wasn’t Baekhyun’s place to make a big deal out of it, so he’d done what he could to be there for his friend, and elected to let it unfold further before he intervened.

He just hoped that Zitao got his shit together before Minseok noticed that something was up, because if _he_ noticed, then Zitao would either talk, and resent Minseok for making him talk, or he would sulk, and resent Minseok anyway, and no one needed that.

He had just stepped out of the room – Zitao’s room – and into the hallway, when he spotted Jongdae, who was hovering in the doorway to his bedroom. “Baek?” 

“Hey, Jongdae. It’s… early, for you to be up, don’t you think?” Jongdae shrugged. Before either of them said anything more, Jongdae wrapped his arms around Baekhyun, and pulled him into a hug. “Why aren’t you with Minseok?”

“I—I wanted to talk to you.” Baekhyun’s brows furrowed, but he nodded once, sliding an arm around Jongdae’s waist. “I—I heard Tao crying earlier. I mean, that’s not what I wanted to tell you, but I think you should know. I’ve never heard him cry.”

“What did you want to tell me, Jongdae?”

“Um.” Oh. Oh, Baekhyun knew that tone, and he really didn’t like where this was going. “The, um, the guy who came here with Yixing? Prince Sehun’s servant?” Baekhyun nodded once. “He’s cute, don’t you think?”

“Uh.” Baekhyun blinked a few times. “I—well, Jongdae, I haven’t really, you know, looked at him since he got here.” Jongdae nodded once. “I—I thought that Minseok was more your type?”

“Oh, he is!”

“So… are you… are you trying to set up a threesome, Jongdae? Because if you are, that’s great, but I would probably talk to Minseok about it, if that were the case.”

Jongdae giggled. “No, no, Baek, that’s not it at _all_. Besides, we both know that if I wanted a threesome, I’d invite _you_.” Baekhyun nodded again, still confused. “I meant that, well, if you think he’s cute, then maybe you should, I don’t know, do something about it.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

“I—thanks, Jongdae, for—well, I don’t know what for. For looking out for me, I guess. But I’m not—no offense, but I’m not interested, not… not in him.” Jongdae looked at him for a few seconds, a tiny smile on his lips. “Stop looking at me like that. Stop that.”

“You think he’s cute, don’t you?” Baekhyun opened his mouth to argue, but Jongdae cut him off. “You _do_ , you’re into him! You totally are, Baek, you like him!”

“Jongdae—”

“No, Baek, that’s so exciting! You think he’s cute! You want to-- _do_ you want to fuck him? Because if you do, that’s great, Baek that’s so exciting—”

“Jongdae, I literally never said—” He cut off with a quiet noise, then tried again. “Look, Jongdae – and you can’t tell Minseok this, he’ll never stop giving me shit if he hears it – but I don’t want to fuck him.” Jongdae blinked quickly, surprised at that admission. “But, like, if he wanted to, I’d bend over for him. I’d let him fuck me.”

Jongdae gasped. “Wh—Baek, you don’t _ever_ \--”

“Yeah, I know. But look at the _size_ of him, there’s literally no way that he’s not—”

“Okay, yeah, got it, that’s enough.”

“You’re the one who _brought it up_ , Jongdae.”

“Well, yes, but I wasn’t expecting you to soliloquize about the size of his—”

“If you two are quite finished,” They both startled when Minseok spoke. Neither of them had heard him approach. He was standing in the middle of the hallway, arms folded over his chest, “I’d quite like to have Jongdae back, for what few hours of the morning remain. Baekhyun, you’re welcome to join us.”

“I—I’m good, thanks, I’ve got—uh. Tao.” He backed away, blushing furiously, and ducked into Zitao’s bedroom again, breathing hard. As he shut the door, he just barely saw Jongdae wrap his arms around Minseok, pulling him closer.

***

When Yixing woke up, Zitao was no longer wrapped around him. He blinked slowly, turned his head, and found Zitao sitting on the edge of the bed, back to him. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, which was… well, Yixing wasn’t complaining, but he didn’t remember Zitao taking it off. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Zitao turned his head slightly, enough that Yixing could see the clench of his jaw, but he didn’t answer. “It’s early, angel. You can sleep more, if you want.” He heard Zitao sigh quietly, and then he spoke, voice wavering slightly.

“Why do you care? Why do you… why are you doing this?”

“Define _this_ , angel.”

Zitao exhaled, then swallowed. “I—why are you taking care of me? Why do you… why do you do it, why do you _care_ if I’m taken care of, if I’m okay?”

“Because,” Yixing sat up and scooted closer, reached out to place a hand on Zitao’s shoulder. He was tense, his whole body trembling with pent up energy. “that’s what I do, sweetheart. I take care of people. I make sure that people are okay. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

“But—” Zitao cut off, trying to work through what Yixing had said. After a moment, he twisted around so he could see Yixing. “Do you kiss everyone?”

Yixing smiled, leaned in closer, close enough that Zitao could have kissed him. “No, angel.” Zitao’s eyes widened slightly, surprised. “Those are just for you.”

Zitao moved comically fast, turning fully and surging forward, to kiss Yixing, hands gripping his shoulders. Yixing chuckled, his surprise evident, but he looped an arm around Zitao’s waist, holding him close, his free hand settling on the back of Zitao’s neck.

When Zitao pulled back to breathe, Yixing spoke, the words murmured against the corner of Zitao’s mouth. “Sweetheart, you’re very pretty.” Zitao blushed bright red, squirming, but Yixing held him in place. “Ah, I think we’re going to have to work on that. One day, you’ll learn to take my compliments.”

“But I’m _not_. I’m not pretty.” Yixing clicked his tongue, fingers scratching lightly at the base of Zitao’s neck. “And I’m not—I’m not beautiful, like you said I was. I’m not.”

Yixing hummed thoughtfully, one arm still secured around Zitao’s waist. “One day, angel, you’ll believe me.” Zitao shook his head quickly, and Yixing chuckled, before he kissed him again, chaste and short and sweet. When he pulled away, Zitao tried to drag him closer, but Yixing was stronger than he had anticipated, held himself away. “Sweetheart, you really should be sleeping.”

“I don’t want to.”

Yixing smiled at him, eyes overwhelmingly fond. Zitao flushed, looked away quickly. “Come on. Two more hours. You’ll thank me later, I promise.” Zitao huffed, but allowed Yixing to pull him back down onto the bed, squirming until he was tucked comfortably around Yixing’s body.

After a few moments of silence, his head rose. Yixing smiled, turned to look at him. “Can you—” Zitao swallowed, then reached for Yixing’s hand, adjusting their position so Yixing’s arm was wrapped around his body, holding him in place. Yixing smiled, then squeezed his hip gently. “Thank you.”

“Sweetheart, if you wanted me to hold you, you could have just said so. I don’t mind.”

Zitao sniffed delicately. “I—I can’t. Just say so, I mean. I can’t do that.” He pressed his face into Yixing’s neck. “I just… I do want you to. I want you to hold me.” 

“Well, I suppose you’re lucky that I like holding you, then.”

Zitao made a quiet noise, twisting around to look at Yixing. “Do you?” Yixing nodded slowly, smiling. “Why?”

Yixing turned his head to kiss Zitao’s forehead gently. “I told you, you’re pretty. I like you.” Zitao blushed furiously, hiding his face in Yixing’s shoulder. “And you’re very warm. It’s lovely.”

“I—really?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Would I lie?” Yixing kissed him on the forehead again, then slid his fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp. “You’re lovely. Absolutely lovely, my sweet little angel.”

“Why do you call me those things?”

“Honestly?” Zitao nodded once. “Because it makes you blush. It gets you flustered.” He paused. “Does it bother you? Because if it does, I can—”

“It’s fine. I don’t—I don’t _mind_ , not really, it’s just… I don’t know. No one’s ever called me that.” Yixing hummed softly, fingers stroking Zitao’s skin absently, like he wasn’t fully aware that he was doing it. “I like it, I think. Especially—”

He cut off with a quiet, flustered noise when Yixing kissed the top of his head gently. After a moment, Yixing resumed stroking the back of his neck. “Especially what?”

“I—” He whined quietly when Yixing’s fingers stilled, nudging his face further into his shoulder, arms wrapped securely around Yixing’s body. “I like—I like angel. Like when you call me that.” Without warning, he sucked Yixing’s earlobe into his mouth, tonguing gently at the piercings there. Yixing exhaled in a stuttered gasp, his grip on Zitao tightening.

“Is that—is that so?” Zitao hummed quietly, then, very deliberately, nipped at Yixing’s earlobe, tugging it back gently with his teeth. “Well, you’ve gotten very brave.”

Zitao made a soft noise in his throat, then pulled away, looking at Yixing with wide eyes. “I—do you not like—” Yixing cut him off by kissing him abruptly. This kiss was just as quick, just as short-lived, as the others, but it left Zitao winded. He gazed at Yixing silently for a few moments, then offered him a tiny smile. “Can I do it again?”

“You really think I’m going to tell you no?”

Zitao leaned down to kiss him gently, mouth sliding around to his other ear. He bit down gently, then released, tongue flicking over the piercings experimentally. “Can I ask you something?” Yixing hummed softly, shifting them slightly so Zitao was half on top of him. “Why do you have them?” As if to explain what he meant, his teeth locked around one of the piercings, oh so gentle, before he withdrew, confusion in his eyes. “Did it hurt?”

“I’ll answer the second question first, because it’s easy. No, it didn’t hurt, not for long. But, I’ve already told you, I heal people. I can heal myself, too.” His hand came up to caress the side of Zitao’s face, gentle. “As for why,” he paused, eyes following Zitao’s tongue when he licked his lips. “I read somewhere that the old god-touched, the priests, had them, as markers of how long they had served, and other… things, it wasn’t too specific.”

“What do yours mean?”

Zitao’s voice was breathless. Yixing smiled, then gestured to the two piercings in his lobe; the first was a glistening green emerald, the second a smooth silver ball. “The green is the color of my god. My patron. The steel, obviously, represents Eliria, my home, the Crown that I was born under.” His fingers brushed over the three silver rings along the outer edge of his left ear. “These three are for my family; Kris, Luhan, and me.” He pointed at the other ear, where two glinting rubies occupied a similar position. “One for every five years that I serve. This is my… my twelfth.” His finger drifted down, to his lobe. In the same place as the other ear, the emerald glinted, but on this side, above it, the hole was empty. “I used to have the steel ball on this side, too. But when I left the service of the Crown, when I abandoned my title, it didn’t feel right. That one, I’m still trying to find a meaning for.”

Zitao smiled. “I think they’re lovely.” He kissed Yixing gently, hands slipping between them to slide under Yixing’s shirt as he did. Yixing chuckled softly, but didn’t do anything, not until Zitao tried to push his shirt up. Yixing’s fingers wrapped around his wrists, pinning them in place, and Zitao whined, petulant. “But _why_ \--”

“Two reasons, angel,” he paused, to kiss Zitao again. “One, I don’t think you’re ready – ah, don’t look at me like that. You were crying when I kissed you last night. You were crying because I called you pretty. You’re very emotional right now, and I think that we need to get you in a quieter, calmer headspace before we have sex.” Zitao whined again, pouting. Yixing chuckled quietly, then kissed the tip of his nose. “And second, sweetheart, because when I do sleep with you, I want you to be _aching_ for it. I want to be the only thing on your mind. Which means,” he paused, stroking Zitao’s jaw with his knuckles. “that you’re going to have to wait until we help Hoseok. Because I know – I can see it in your eyes – that there is a part of you that is always focused on him, and that’s – angel, don’t give me that look, I don’t _care_ that you’re focused on him, on keeping him safe. What worries me is that I might distract you from that. I don’t want you to regret anything that you do with me.”

“But after that? After we help him? Then you’ll—you’ll—you know? You’ll sleep with me? Have sex with me?”

Yixing smiled, the look filled with danger, and Zitao couldn’t help but shudder. “When he is safe, angel, then I will have sex with you. You have my word.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Hey.” Sehun looked up quickly when he heard Luhan speak from the doorway. He looked exhausted, shadows under his eyes, shoulders sagging slightly. After a few seconds, he spoke again, voice quiet. “I—I got word from Kris. He says…” he trailed off, biting at his lower lip. “Well. He says that Yixing has disappeared. No one knows where he is.”

Sehun sighed softly, put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Luhan.”

“It’s not your fault—”

“I know. But I also know how much he means to you.” Luhan looked away quickly, blinking back tears. After a moment, he crossed the room, to stand on the other side of Sehun’s desk. “It’s late. You should be asleep.” Luhan shook his head once. “I know. I know.” He held out his hand, and Luhan walked around the desk, taking Sehun’s hand. Sehun tugged him into his lap, pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I know.”

“I just—I don’t _know_ Chanyeol particularly well, but I—he’s been really sweet, since I got here, and he—he volunteered, to go with me to Eishta, you know. I told him to do what Jongin was doing; distract you. He told me that you knew him too well, for that to work.” Sehun nodded slowly. “He means a lot to _you_ , I think. I think you miss him a lot more than you let on.” Sehun kissed Luhan’s shoulder once more. “Will you tell me?”

“There’s—there’s not much to tell—”

“That’s a lie.” Luhan turned his head, to kiss Sehun gently. “You said—you said he told you that he was hell-touched, when he joined the staff. When was that?”

“I was—I was fifteen? He—his parents served my parents, and when he was old enough, he came to serve me.” He wrapped an arm around Luhan’s waist. “He and Jongin came to work for us at about the same time. Joonmyun and I, we didn’t get along. We’ve never gotten along. And because of that, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol were the closest things I had to… to what I believe real brothers should be like.”

Luhan nodded slowly, sliding an arm around Sehun’s shoulders. Sehun pressed his face against Luhan’s jaw gently. “He’s—we got along really well, Chanyeol and I. Even though he was my servant and I was a Prince, we had this bond, something that I had never had with anyone, even Kyungsoo. I trust him, with my life, and I—I think that he feels the same way. I hope so. I want him to trust me.” He sniffed gently. “Two weeks in, he… he came to me, and said he had something to tell me.

“I already knew that he was into boys. Everyone in the palace knew, because he… he was in love with Jongin. You could see it when he looked at him. I thought that that’s what he wanted to tell me, but I was very wrong.” Sehun pulled Luhan closer, kissed his shoulder again. “He was in tears. He was so upset, before he even told me, and I had no idea why, I didn’t know what to do, all I knew was that there was nothing he could have told me that would have… that would have made me hate him. He was my best friend, I could never hate him.” Luhan nodded slowly, then kissed Sehun’s forehead. “He—he told me that he was hell-touched, and the next thing he said, I’ll remember for the rest of my life. He told me… ‘ _if you want me to go, I will, just please… please don’t tell anyone. I can’t go back to Eishta. I can’t do that, please don’t make me_.’

“And I remember the look on his face, when I told him that I would never do that, I would never send him away. And he—he promised me, that day, that he would stay with me forever, he would do anything.” Sehun swallowed hard, nosing into Luhan’s neck. “He’s my best friend.”

“I know.” Luhan smiled. “We’ll find him.”

“Luhan—”

“He would never betray you. I don’t think that’s what’s happened. I think something else is going on.” Sehun shuddered, grip on Luhan tightening. “Because if it were, as Joonmyun is inclined to believe, a matter of him being hell-touched, then Kyungsoo would be gone too.”

Sehun nodded slowly, then sighed. “How did you… did he tell you?”

Luhan shook his head. “No. No, he didn’t. I saw his mark, though. We were… we were having a conversation about… about Jongin, and Kyungsoo tried to storm off but I grabbed him and I saw it. And I… that might have been why I punched him.”

“Ah.” They lapsed into silence for a few moments, before Sehun spoke again. “He… we were talking about Jongin that night too. He… he hasn’t told Jongin what he is, and he… he doesn’t want to hurt him.”

“Does he understand that Jongin is going to be more upset if he doesn’t say anything?”

“That’s what I told him. I don’t think he believed me.” Sehun stood a moment later and Luhan made a quiet noise of displeasure when the movement pushed him to his feet as well. “Speaking of, Kyungsoo’s been in a bit of a mood since yesterday. I don’t know what’s going on with him.” Luhan’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything. “That said, it might just be the whole Chanyeol situation. Like I said, we were close, the three of us.”

Luhan, for all that he tried to play it casual, wasn’t doing a good job. He must have realized, because he spoke a moment later. “Jongin’s upset too. At me, mostly, because I told him to stay out of the whole Chanyeol situation, but there’s something else on his mind. He barely spoke to me yesterday, which is… unusual, for him, even when he’s upset with me.” Something seemed to dawn on him a moment later. “You don’t think they’re fighting, do you?”

“Kyungsoo’s not the type to fight. He’s very… upfront, with everything. He wouldn’t—”

Sehun cut off when they heard a knock at the door. He rolled his eyes, and a moment later, Joonmyun walked in, Kyungsoo at his shoulder. Sehun was right; Kyungsoo was in a mood, Luhan could tell that much just by looking at him. His shoulders were tense, and there was a dark, closed off look to his eyes.

Joonmyun crossed the room quickly, came to stand in front of them. “Do you want the good news, or the bad news?”

“Either. It doesn’t make a difference.”

“Okay, the good news: someone saw Chanyeol leaving the city.” Sehun exhaled quietly, relief flooding his face. “The bad news – well, there’s a few pieces of bad news, but one pertains more to the situation. The person who saw him also saw him leave with the other Prince of Eliria. The weird one, with the mark on his face.” Luhan shot him a look, which Joonmyun ignored. “The person who saw that was also no longer in the city when we went to find him an hour ago.”

Sehun swore quietly, moments before Joonmyun spoke again. “More bad news: we got a letter, from the queen of Eliria.” He held it up, and Luhan snatched it out of his hand. “She says that if you two don’t get your shit together and actually get married, she’s going to withdraw the offer and take Luhan back. Which, frankly, I wouldn’t mind, but I thought you might want to know. You seem pretty keen on keeping him around.”

Sehun sighed. “I—thank you, Joonmyun.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure.” He turned away quickly. “Kyungsoo, let’s go.” They left the room nearly as quickly as they’d come, and Sehun turned back to Luhan.

“I’m sorry—”

Sehun grabbed him by the waist and tugged him closer, pressing his face into Luhan’s hair. “Let’s get married.”

“I—when?”

“Soon. Whenever you want, but soon.” Sehun kissed Luhan gently, first on the mouth, then on the forehead. “Pick a day, and I’ll tell my mother. She’ll get it sorted out.” Luhan hummed quietly, pulling Sehun closer. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, but—Sehun, what’s on your mind?” Sehun looked away, but Luhan grabbed his jaw, frowning. “Tell me. What is it?”

“I—” He exhaled quietly. “There are precious few people that I truly love in the world, Luhan, and one of them just disappeared into thin air, apparently with your brother. I think I need to stop wasting time. I don’t… I don’t want to lose you.”

Luhan’s eyes softened, and he rose on his toes to kiss Sehun gently. “You won’t. You won’t ever lose me, I promise you. I’ll be by your side, for as long as I live. You have my word. Okay?”

***

“What’s Tao’s deal?”

Baekhyun looked up at Minseok, smiling brightly. He ducked down to kiss Jongdae once more, before he spoke. “What do you mean?” Minseok snorted came to lean against the back of the couch, eying Baekhyun carefully. “ _What_? What’s that look for?”

“You didn’t notice?” Baekhyun shrugged. “Yesterday, he was all… out of it. Mopey. Brooding, that’s the word. And today, he’s… different. He’s _smiling_ , which isn’t weird, but he’s practically _glowing_. It’s… I don’t understand _why_.”

“Maybe he had sex.” Jongdae mumbled the words quietly, then smiled up at them. “I’ve heard that people glow after they have sex.”

“No, it’s not a sex-glow. Besides, we’ve had plenty of sex with him and he never glows after that.” Baekhyun shifted slightly, and Jongdae hissed at him as the movement jostled his head. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

They all heard Zitao coming down the hallway. When Minseok spoke next, his voice was a low whisper. “He didn’t kiss me earlier, when I was talking to him. Usually he does.” Minseok looked at Baekhyun for a moment. “You were with him last night. Was he weird?”

“I—yeah, about that.” Baekhyun looked away for a moment. “When I said that he was in my room? That was a lie. He—he left before I woke up. I have no idea where he was.” Minseok’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything. “I think he just has a lot on his mind, you know, with that tip we got from our spies in Eliria and with Hoseok and Yixing and all that.”

“Who has a lot on his mind?”

Minseok straightened. “No one. What have you found out?” He turned towards Zitao, face sliding back into neutrality as he did. As he crossed the room, Zitao spoke quietly, quiet enough that Baekhyun and Jongdae couldn’t hear it.

Jongdae pulled Baekhyun closer by the back of his head, to whisper in his ear. “Why are you lying to him? You _know_ he was weird last night—”

“And you heard him crying, but you didn’t mention that, did you?” Jongdae huffed quietly but didn’t say anything. “It’s his business. If he wants to tell Minseok, then he can, but if he’d rather keep it to himself, then I’m not going to spill his secrets. He’s my best friend.”

“Yeah. Mine too.” Jongdae had a thoughtful look on his face, and then he perked up slightly, kissed Baekhyun lightly on the mouth, before he spoke. “Do you think he’s—you don’t think he’s sleeping with someone _else_ , do you? He would have told us.”

“I don’t know, Dae.”

“Do you—Baek, what if he and—what if he’s sleeping with one of the… with Yixing or Chanyeol? Or both?”

Baekhyun sighed, then placed a hand over Jongdae’s mouth. “I think that it’s none of our business. I think that we need to not pester him about it; he’ll tell us when he’s ready. And, most importantly, I think we need to not mention this to Minseok. If we say anything to him, he’ll talk to Tao, and he won’t leave Tao alone until he gets an answer. Which, I know you want an answer, but I don’t think Tao wants to give one.” Jongdae thought this over for a few moments, then nodded. “It’ll work out.”

“Did you two… last night, did you guys—”

“Jongdae, sorry to interrupt, can I borrow Baekhyun for a moment?”

After a moment, Baekhyun slid his legs out from under Jongdae, and bounded towards Zitao and Minseok quickly. “Yeah, what?”

Minseok flicked the underside of his jaw gently. “Watch your tone,” he said quietly, then turned to Zitao. “Are you sure?” Zitao nodded once. “Okay. Baekhyun, you and Zitao are going West.”

Baekhyun’s blood ran cold. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep the fear out of his eyes. Minseok, for as observant as he was, didn’t notice. “We’re—West?”

“Yes. West. To Kazir.” Baekhyun inhaled slowly, then nodded once, smiling tightly. “Zitao will update you on what’s going on. You’re leaving in two days.” He slipped past them and walked towards Jongdae, leaving them alone.

Baekhyun glared at Zitao, then grabbed him by the forearm and dragged him out of the room. When he closed the door behind them, he spoke, voice angry. “Are you _stupid_?”

“No. Trust me, Baek.”

“Zitao, you _know_ how the fucking—you know how the Prince of Kazir feels about me! You know that he and his father _hate_ me, for a million very valid reasons! I’ll ask you again, are you fucking _stupid_?”

“Baekhyun, let me explain. Please.” After a moment, Baekhyun nodded, jaw clenching furiously. “They don’t hate me. In fact, they quite like me. So, while I’m busy doing, you know, the diplomat thing, the… the charming, sweet, and wonderful thing, you’re going to be doing the Baekhyun thing.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “If they catch you, which they won’t, they’re not going to think anything of it, because they already know you’re a troublemaker.”

“I—fine. I still hate this idea.” Zitao nodded, then tried to turn away, but Baekhyun grabbed him again. “Hey. Are you okay?” Zitao nodded again. “No, I mean it. You left me, last night, and I… Zitao, if something’s wrong, I want to know. I want to help you. I love you.”

“I know, Baek.” After a few seconds, Zitao pulled Baekhyun into a hug. “I’m sorry I left. It’s just… there’s a lot on my mind. I had to think some things through. I had to… sort some stuff out. But I’m okay now.”

“Honest?”

“Yeah. Honest.”

Baekhyun pulled back, eying him cautiously. “Minseok knows something’s up. You—you’re weird, today. Weirder than normal. Jongdae thinks you’re sleeping with Yixing or Chanyeol.” Something flickered in Zitao’s eyes, and Baekhyun gasped quietly. He dragged Zitao further down the hallway, then spoke again. “Are you?”

“I—no.”

“Don’t lie to me, Tao.”

After a moment, Zitao exhaled, glancing over his shoulder quickly. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, the words barely more than a ghost of a breath over Baekhyun’s ear. “Not exactly. It’s… I—”

“Who? Which one?”

“Yixing, but Baek, you can’t tell anyone, especially not Minseok, he’d kill me—”

“I know. I know, stupid, I’m not going to tell him.” Baekhyun paused, examining Zitao closely. “What do you mean, _not exactly_? How—”

Zitao blushed pink, looked down quickly. “I—I was upset, last night. There was a lot on my mind, I was trying to handle a lot of things, and I hadn’t been sleeping well. I hadn’t done enough to take care of myself, and eventually I hit a breaking point. Unfortunately, Yixing was there to witness it. He—well, he kind of caused it, honestly, but—no, get that look off your face, he wasn’t—let me explain.”

“Okay. Okay. I want to know, Tao, I’m just… I’m confused.”

“I know.” Zitao paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. “We were just… we were just talking, about stuff. Things. And then, all of the sudden, he was just _there_ , way closer than I had expected, and he looked at me, and there was so much _emotion_ in his eyes, and he—Baek, he told me I was pretty and I started _crying_ , because I could see that he meant it and I—he did it again, and I told him to stop, not because I wanted him to stop but because I wanted him to keep saying it, to keep calling me that, but I’m not supposed to want that, because he’s Elirian and I’m… I’m _me_ , but when I told to stop, he _apologized_ , he genuinely thought he had _hurt_ me.”

Zitao inhaled slowly, then swallowed, trying to keep his voice under control. “And then he kissed me, and I—all I knew was that I wanted him to keep doing it. All I wanted was for him to keep kissing me.”

“Tao—”

“He told me it was okay to cry.” The words cut through the air like a blade and Baekhyun fell silent, inhaling softly. “He told me that it was okay for me to cry, that it was always okay. And then he… he—we went to bed, but we didn’t, you know, _sleep_ together, we just slept together, and he held me all night.” He was trembling, trying not to cry, not here. “He gets me, Baek. I met him… two days ago? And he _gets_ me, like no one else does, not even you. He just… I—when I’m with him, it feels like I’m his whole world. And I want that, more than anything. I want to be his everything.”

After a few seconds, Baekhyun pulled Zitao against him, arms wrapping around his body. “Tao,” he paused, as Zitao shuddered against him, “he’d be stupid to not want you back.” Zitao chuckled quietly, sniffling. “But if he hurts you, I’ll kill him. No one hurts my best friend and gets away with it.”

Zitao laughed as he pulled away, smiling at Baekhyun. “I love you.”

“I know, Tao. I love you, too.” Baekhyun patted his cheek gently. “Hey, that—that Chanyeol guy, that he came here with?” Zitao nodded his understanding. “Do you know if he’s, like, with anyone? _With_ anyone?”


	13. Chapter 13

Zitao was dutifully avoiding Yixing’s gaze. They were standing in the room with Hoseok, and Minseok was watching them from the door, arms folded over his chest. Chanyeol was hovering in the corner, caution in his eyes. After a few moments, Yixing turned to look at Minseok, exhaling quietly, “I work better without people staring holes into the back of my head.”

Minseok’s eyebrow twitched. “Subtle.” After a moment, he turned away, and left the room. Chanyeol hesitated for a moment, then followed him. When the door closed behind him, Zitao’s eyes snapped up to meet Yixing’s gaze.

“Focus.” Yixing’s voice was quiet, but there wasn’t a single part of Zitao that wouldn’t have obeyed. “Tonight, angel. Show me you deserve it.”

“I will.” Zitao swallowed hard, blinking a few times before he spoke. “Yixing?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Will you—will you—please tell me.”

Yixing smiled fondly at him, as he stepped forward, to place his hands on Hoseok’s jaw. He looked Zitao in the eyes, then spoke, voice firm. “Sweetheart,” he paused, waiting until he was sure that he had all of Zitao’s attention, “you are absolutely beautiful. You are my sweet, pretty little angel.”

Zitao exhaled, breath shaking. He smiled tightly at Yixing. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Yixing watched Zitao for a few moments, before he turned his attention to Hoseok. “Do it. Release him.” Zitao inhaled slowly, then placed his hands on Hoseok’s shoulders. He released the breath, and as he did, his eyes glowed gold. The gold in Hoseok’s eyes faded, and when it cleared, Hoseok gasped, body sagging forward. Yixing’s grip tightened slightly, and he channeled every ounce of power that he had towards Hoseok’s body. Zitao released Hoseok and stepped away, retreating to the wall. A green haze had fallen over Yixing’s vision, the color mirrored in Hoseok’s eyes. “Zitao, lock the door.”

“Why?”

“Because I told you to.” After a moment, Zitao moved, locking the door quickly. He looked at Yixing for a moment, leaning against the wall.

They stayed like that for hours. Zitao didn’t move from where he was, watching Yixing and Hoseok closely, waiting. That was why Yixing wasn’t exactly surprised when Zitao stepped closer. “Yixing, it’s—don’t kill yourself for him.” Yixing grunted quietly, shook off the hand that Zitao placed on his shoulder. “Yixing—”

“It’s fine, angel. I can handle it.” Zitao made a soft noise, but stepped away. “I told you, it would be hard. If you want to leave—”

“I’ll stay.” Zitao murmured the words, then leaned back against the door. Yixing could feel his energy weakening—Hoseok was draining him more than he had anticipated.

Without warning, Yixing’s vision was bombarded by images, flashing into his mind. They were Hoseok’s memories, he realized, and as soon as he came to that conclusion, guilt curled in his stomach. These were private things, things Yixing didn’t need to—

Oh.

When Zitao had mentioned that he and Hoseok had been close, Yixing hadn’t realized that he meant… _that_. And this—well. The view was nice. Very nice.

He was so wrapped up in the memories that he didn’t realize he had collapsed until Zitao had a hand on his waist, chin on his shoulder. “Yixing—”

“Let me go.”

Zitao shook his head quickly, his grip on Yixing’s waist tightening. After a moment, Yixing relented, returning his focus to Hoseok’s memories. Now, the memories had focused on what Yixing was assuming was the night that this had happened. Baekhyun and Jongdae were there, in the background, but the most important part of the memory – the most vivid part, the part that Hoseok remembered best – was Zitao. He was happy, his eyes filled with joy, but all at once, that joy transformed into fear, eyes going wide.

It wasn’t fear, it was _terror_.

A split second, then blinding pain, then nothing.

And as the nothing settled over Hoseok’s eyes, it started to swallow the edges of Yixing’s vision. He gasped quietly, his grip tightening on Hoseok. “Zitao, I—”

“Use mine. Use me.” Zitao placed his hand over Yixing’s forehead, channeling everything that he had into Yixing’s body. Yixing gasped quietly, then quickly, redirected that energy into Hoseok.

It was just enough.

Hoseok woke a moment later, gasping quietly. He lurched forward into Yixing, and a moment later, Zitao had shot to his feet to unchain Hoseok. Yixing and Hoseok fell to the floor. Zitao moved to open the door, but he stopped, when Yixing spoke. “Don’t do that, not yet.” Yixing adjusted Hoseok’s body gently, then looked at Zitao. “You slept with him?”

“Yes. I did. I told you, we were close. I love him. When we were young, we didn’t have anyone else. Jongdae had Baekhyun. I had Hoseok. If that’s a problem for you—”

“Open the door.” Zitao nodded, and unlocked the door, tugging it open. After a moment, Minseok stepped inside, then came to kneel beside Hoseok. He lifted him up into his arms, shooting a look at Yixing before he left the room. Half a second passed in silence, then Zitao pulled Yixing against his chest, breathing heavily. “Sweetheart—”

“Are you okay? Do you need—tell me. Tell me what you need.” Zitao slid a hand into his hair, eyes filled with concern. “Please, Yixing, tell me, please—”

“Sweetheart, I’m okay.” He tried to sit up, but couldn’t, and Zitao held him closer. “I just—I need to get upstairs.” Zitao nodded quickly, then helped Yixing to his feet. Yixing was leaning heavily on him, but eventually, they made their way upstairs, into Yixing’s room. “I’m sorry.”

“Wh—no, don’t be, it’s okay, Yixing—”

“It’s not. I should have been stronger—”

“ _No_.” Zitao’s voice cracked on the word. “No, no, don’t think like that, Yixing, I don’t mind, I didn’t mind helping, I _wanted_ to!” They made it halfway to the bed before Yixing tripped, bringing them both to the floor. Zitao crawled into his lap, hands on his shoulders. “I wanted to help. I don’t—I don’t want you to hurt yourself, over that. Please don’t do that, don’t beat yourself up over it, it isn’t your _fault_.”

“Angel. Angel, sweetheart—” Yixing’s voice broke and he wrapped his arms around Zitao’s waist, holding him close. “Tonight, I was supposed to—sweetheart, I don’t think I can.”

“I don’t want you to.” Yixing’s eyes widened. “No, no, that’s not what I meant! That’s not what I meant at all, I just… I wouldn’t want you to push yourself like that, after… after everything.” He looked away for a moment.

“You were looking forward to it.”

“I mean, yeah, but we have _time_. It’s _okay_. And—” he cut off, biting at his lower lip. A moment later, he spoke, his voice quiet, but thick with promise. “You told me, the other day, that when we did it, you wanted to be the only thing on my mind. I—Yixing, I want to be the only thing on _your_ mind. I don’t want you to have to worry about not being able, I want you to be able to give me _everything_.”

Yixing nodded slowly, hugged Zitao tightly. “Okay, angel. Okay.” He turned his head to kiss Zitao’s jaw gently. “Let’s get to bed.” After a few seconds, he stood. Zitao helped him over to the bed, and once they were settled, Yixing wrapped his arms around Zitao, holding him close. Zitao pressed his face into Yixing’s neck, humming quietly. “Thank you, angel.”

“I—you’re welcome. I—I—will you kiss me?” Yixing turned his head slightly, mouth hovering by Zitao’s cheekbone. Zitao whined quietly, trying to shift to get his mouth on Yixing, but Yixing grabbed the back of his neck, holding him still. “ _Please_ , kiss me—”

Yixing chuckled quietly, then shifted, to press a short kiss to Zitao’s mouth. “Is that what you wanted?” Zitao nodded, then kissed Yixing again, whining softly in his throat. “Pretty little angel. You’re so beautiful.” After a moment, Zitao rolled onto Yixing, one leg sliding in between Yixing’s. He kissed him again, one hand resting on Yixing’s jaw. “Sweetheart.”

“Mm.” He ducked down, to mouth at Yixing’s jaw, sucking gently on his skin. “Mhm?”

Yixing smiled, before he spoke, voice strained. “Little angel.” His hand fisted in the back of Zitao’s shirt, free hand stroking the back of his neck. “My pretty little ang-- _oh_.” Zitao’s mouth latched onto his neck, his teeth sinking into Yixing’s neck. “Oh, sweetheart.” Zitao whined quietly, before he released, sucking on the mark that he had left. “You’ve got _teeth_ , kitten.” Zitao whimpered, hips rolling forward against Yixing’s thigh. “My sweet little kitten.”

Zitao sniffed quietly, then pulled back, examining the mark closely. Yixing released his neck, to touch a finger to it, wincing slightly. After a moment, Zitao smiled brightly, kissed the mark, and Yixing’s finger. Yixing chuckled, then pressed his finger into Zitao’s mouth, pressing down against his tongue. Zitao whined quietly, then sucked his finger deeper, holding Yixing’s gaze. “Oh, kitten. You like having things in your mouth?” Zitao hummed quietly, bit down lightly on Yixing’s finger. “Come here, let me kiss you.” He pulled his finger away, and Zitao ducked down to kiss him on the mouth. “Ah, kitten.”

His hand had returned to the back of Zitao’s neck, holding him in place. All at once, he rolled, flipping them over and pinning Zitao down. “I said let me kiss you, kitten. So, hold still,” he paused, smiling, “and let me kiss you. Okay?”

Zitao whined, pouting up at him, but the look faded when Yixing kissed him softly. His grip on Yixing tightened, like he was trying to drag him closer. “I want—Yixing, _please_.”

“Tell me, kitten. Tell me what you want.” He leaned down to kiss Zitao’s neck, before his mouth fell to his shoulder. “Can I take this off?” He tugged gently at Zitao’s shirt, and after a moment, Zitao nodded, whining quietly. Yixing tugged the shirt over his head gently, then bent over to kiss his collarbone softly. “You’re so pretty, kitten. Such a pretty little angel.”

“I-- _Yixing_.”

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart, and I’ll give it to you. But until then, you’ll get what I give you, and nothing more. Okay?” Zitao whimpered, pulling at Yixing’s shirt, until Yixing allowed him to pull it off. “Oh, angel. Pretty little angel.”

“You’re so _mean_.”

“Why’s that, sweetheart?”

Yixing didn’t seem at all put out by the fact that Zitao had called him mean. Zitao pouted up at him for a few moments, before he spoke, petulant. “You’re… you’re getting me all… all…” he waved his hand, as some sort of an explanation. “And you won’t even—you _know_.”

Yixing smiled at him, then placed a hand on either side of Zitao’s head, leaned down so their mouths were a hair apart. When he spoke, his lips just barely brushed Zitao’s. “Do you want me to stop, angel? Is that what you want?” Zitao shook his head quickly. “Can you hold still for me, sweetheart? Can you do that?”

“Yixing, I just want—I want to _come_ , please can I—”

Yixing silenced him with a gentle kiss, running his fingers through Zitao’s hair. “As much as I love that you asked, kitten, you don’t have to. You don’t need my _permission_ , not yet.” Zitao inhaled softly at that quiet promise of more to come, eyes searching Yixing’s gaze. “I suppose it wouldn’t be fair of me to not make you come. Not after you were so patient.”

“I was?”

“Of course, you were, kitten. You were so patient.” Yixing kissed him again. “Mm. You’re so pretty.” Zitao’s mouth fell open in a gasp, and Yixing kissed him, licking into his mouth with no effort. “Such a pretty little angel, my sweet kitten.”

“Can you—will you—Yixing—” Zitao used his grip on Yixing to drag his hips closer, grinding up against his thigh. “Ah, mm, Yixing, please—” Yixing hushed him, stroking his jaw gently, then kissed him again. “’m gonna—”

“Yeah, sweetheart, go ahead.”

When Zitao came, he arched backwards, eyes screwing shut. His grip on Yixing tightened to the point of painful. A few moments passed, and then he went limp, gasping quietly for breath. Yixing hushed him quietly, then kissed him, shifting slightly so his knees bracketed Zitao’s thighs. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay. It’s _okay_.”

“I just—I’m—” He cut off with a low sob, and Yixing smiled, kissed his forehead gently. Zitao was crying softly, and after a few seconds, he wiped his tears away gently. “I’m sorry.”

“Kitten, what did I tell you? What did I say the other night?”

Zitao swallowed, still clinging to Yixing. “I—that—that it was okay to cry. That it’s always okay to cry. I—I’m sorry, I can’t _help_ it—” Yixing hushed him quietly, kissed Zitao again. “I—I just—will you… do you want me to—”

“No, angel, don’t worry about me.” Yixing climbed off of him, then pulled Zitao into his lap, wrapping an arm around his waist, and holding him against his chest. “Don’t worry about me.”

“But it’s not _fair_ \--”

“In the morning, kitten, you can. Okay?” Zitao nodded slowly, nosing his way into Yixing’s neck. “Shh, sweetheart, you just sleep now, okay?”

Zitao whined quietly, still sniffling. He was kissing Yixing’s jaw, licking gently at his neck, hands running over Yixing’s bare chest. After a few moments, his hands settled, but his mouth continued, biting and sucking at Yixing’s neck.

He pulled away rather suddenly, eyes wide. “I—these—these marks, are these—you—are—is this a problem?” Yixing smiled at him brightly, then took Zitao’s hand, kissed his knuckles gently. “I mean, I know Baekhyun doesn’t like when I do it, but—I’m sorry, I didn’t ask—”

“Shh, kitten. It’s okay. I don’t _mind_. I told you, I can heal myself. These—these are going to heal in no time, angel, don’t worry about it.” After a few seconds, Zitao nodded, then ducked back down, to return to what he had been doing. “You like leaving them?”

“Mhm. I like—I like knowing that you’re wearing my mark. I—this is embarrassing.” Yixing hummed quietly, then shifted his grip on Zitao, so one hand was resting on the back of his neck. “Mm, I like that, too. I like feeling you,” he extracted one hand, to gesture to his neck, “here.” Yixing chuckled, fingers flexing gently. “But I—I like—please don’t be mad at me for saying this.”

“For saying what, sweetheart?”

Zitao whined quietly, mouth coming to rest on Yixing’s earlobe, nipping softly before he spoke. “I like feeling like you’re mine. I like that.”

Yixing smiled, kissed Yixing’s temple. “You want me to be yours, angel?” Zitao nodded quickly, whining. “If I’m yours, then will you be mine, too?”

“I—yes, please, Yixing, I want that, _please_ \--”

“You want to be my pretty little angel?” Zitao nodded again, biting down on Yixing’s earlobe again. “Ah, pretty little kitty, you’re so gorgeous.” His grip tightened slightly, and Zitao hummed, nuzzling further into his neck. “You really like when I hold you, huh?”

“Mm. Yes.”

“Why?”

Zitao exhaled quietly, held still for a moment before he spoke. “I—I guess because it makes me feel… like I’m safe? Like I’m yours. Like you… like you want me, like you _like_ me.” He could sense the way Yixing’s brow furrowed. “You do like me, right?”

Yixing used his grip on Zitao to pull him back slightly, so their gazes could lock. There was something small and fragile in Zitao’s eyes, and after a moment, Yixing’s gaze turned soft and fond. “Kitten, of course I like you. How could I not?” That seemed to confuse Zitao. “You’re so pretty, you’re so overwhelmingly _adorable_ , and you’re the sweetest, kindest, most darling, and most _loyal_ person I’ve ever met. How could I not like you? How could anyone not like you?” Zitao looked away quickly, blushing furiously. “Kitten, you deserve to have anything you want. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Promise?”

Yixing smiled sadly at him. “I promise, kitten.” After a moment, he hugged Zitao against his chest again. “My pretty little angel.”

“I—you know, when you say it, I almost believe it.”

Yixing frowned, squeezing the back of his neck gently. “Kitty cat, it is true. It _is_ , sweetheart, you’re so pretty, you’re adorable, you’re so sweet and kind, you’re beautiful, I like everything about you, you deserve everything, you deserve the _world_.”

Zitao didn’t say anything. He held still, breathing even, and after a few minutes, Yixing sighed, kissed his forehead. He knew Zitao wasn’t asleep, but if he wanted Yixing to drop it, then he would. It could wait until another day. Yixing kissed his temple gently, then spoke, voice quiet. “One day, you’ll understand. One day, you’ll realize that I say those things about you because they’re true. I mean every word of it, kitten, every word.”

***

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?”

Sehun snorted quietly, turning to face Kyungsoo, danger in his eyes. “You know exactly what I fucking mean. What the hell is wrong with you?” Kyungsoo didn’t speak. “I’m not stupid, I know something’s wrong. You’ve been out of it since after Jongin put himself in between Joonmyun and I. So, Kyungsoo, tell me what’s going on.”

Kyungsoo sighed quietly. “Sehun, I love you, but it’s none of your—”

“Are you two fighting?”

“No.” Kyungsoo looked at him for a moment, before he spoke again, resigned. “We aren’t… we aren’t together. Anymore.” Sehun looked taken aback, didn’t have time to say anything before Kyungsoo spoke again. “I told him that it wasn’t a good idea for us to see each other anymore.”

“And you told him this… why, exactly?”

“Because it’s true. It’s not a good idea.” Sehun huffed quietly, and Kyungsoo shot him a look. “Don’t fucking look at me like that, don’t huff at me like that. You _know_ it’s a bad idea for us to see each other. He’s… you _know_ what I mean.”

Sehun could see Luhan standing in the doorway out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything. He looked Kyungsoo in the eyes. “Say it. Say what you mean.”

“Sehun, you know—”

“No, Kyungsoo, I want to hear it from you.”

Kyungsoo exhaled slowly, then looked Sehun in the eyes. “Sehun, I’m… sixth in line for the Sivalian throne, if we count Luhan. He’s about as far from that throne as it gets. It isn’t right for me to be with someone like him.”

“ _Someone like him_?” Luhan’s voice slashed through the silence that followed Kyungsoo’s words, and Kyungsoo whipped around to glare at him furiously. Before he could speak, though, Luhan continued. “You sound like Joonmyun.”

Pain flashed across Kyungsoo’s face. “Don’t fucking go there, Luhan, you know it’s a bad idea for him and I to be together. You _know_ that.”

“Who _cares_ if you two are together? Sehun? I doubt it. Me? You _know_ I don’t. Sehun’s parents? I doubt it. I think the only person that actually thinks it’s a problem is _you_ , Kyungsoo.” 

A few seconds passed, and Kyungsoo watched Luhan closely throughout the silence. After a moment, he spoke, voice quiet. “You think you know so much. Don’t forget, Luhan, you aren’t one of us. You aren’t from here. You don’t _know_ us, you don’t know anything about us, or about our country. Keep your fucking nose out of things that don’t concern you.”

Sehun opened his mouth to speak, but Luhan cut him off. His eyes flashed blue for a moment before he spoke. “Things that don’t _concern me_? Say that again, Kyungsoo, tell me that my best friend’s life, my best friend’s _happiness_ doesn’t fucking concern me.” The whites of Kyungsoo’s eyes flashed black for a moment, before returning to normal. “Oh, look at you, big, scary hell-touched, aren’t you?”

“Luhan—”

Luhan shot a look at Sehun, who closed his mouth quickly. He turned his gaze back to Kyungsoo when he spoke again. “Jongin is my best friend, in the whole world. And you _hurt_ him.” Kyungsoo squared his shoulders, jaw clenching. “And if you weren’t Sehun’s best friend, then I would kill you for it. _No one_ gets to do that to Jongin.” After a moment, Luhan turned on his heel and walked away.

He got to the door before Kyungsoo spoke. “Luhan.”

Luhan spun around, eyes flashing again. “ _What_ , Kyungsoo?”

“Thank you.”

Luhan nodded slowly, jaw tense. He held Kyungsoo’s gaze for a long moment, before he turned away and left the room.

Jongin was waiting in the hallway, as was Joonmyun. They were standing about five feet apart, staring at each other. Jongin was glaring at Joonmyun, who was merely smirking back at him, eyes glowing violet. Jongin’s eyes were glinting a deep indigo. When Luhan closed the door, Joonmyun turned to look at him. “Things sounded pretty tense in there.”

“It’s none of your fucking business, Joonmyun. Get lost.”

Joonmyun chuckled quietly. “My country, my business.” Luhan rolled his eyes and Joonmyun laughed again. “My _brother_ , my business, as you very well know. That one I’m sure you understand.” He paused, examining Luhan closely. “Mm. Do you think that the reason that Chanyeol went with Yixing was because they’re _both_ joining Eishta?”

Luhan exhaled quietly. He knew that it wouldn’t end well if he got angry. He knew that he shouldn’t let it get to him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Joonmyun snorted quietly, chuckling. “Well, we both already knew that he wasn’t exactly the most loyal to the Elirian throne. When they left the city, they were headed towards Eishta. I’ll let you put the rest together.”

“My brother would _never_ \--”

“Are you sure?” Joonmyun stepped closer, eyes still glowing. “Are you absolutely sure that he would never, _never_ do anything to help Eishta? You’re sure he’s so loyal to his family, to his country, that he wouldn’t ever do anything that wasn’t done in support of the Crown?” Luhan opened his mouth, then hesitated. After a moment, Joonmyun nodded slowly. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Without another word, he turned and walked into the room, leaving Jongin and Luhan alone.

Jongin looked at Luhan for a few seconds. “He—Kyungsoo was in there, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“And I—was this—you were talking about me, weren’t you? About what happened?”

“He told—well, he told _Sehun_ , but I was listening.” Jongin nodded slowly, bowing his head. “I meant what I said, you know. When I told you that if he hurt you, I’d kill him? I was very serious.”

“Please don’t.”

Luhan smiled sadly. “I know. I won’t, Jongin.” After a few seconds, Jongin returned the smile. “You still love him?”

“Yes.”

Jongin went silent after that admission, his eyes wide as he gazed at Luhan. After a few seconds, Luhan nodded slowly, then pulled Jongin into a hug. “It’s okay. It’s _okay_ , Jongin.”

“I shouldn’t, should I? Because of what he said—”

“You can’t just… stop loving someone, Jongin. It doesn’t work like that.” Jongin nodded slowly. “It’s okay to still love him. It’s okay.”


	14. Chapter 14

Yixing woke when he heard someone knocking on the door to his room. He blinked, smiling at Zitao fondly, before he released him, slipping out from underneath him carefully, and crossing the room, to pull the door open. Baekhyun was standing on the other side, and he smiled awkwardly when he saw Yixing. “I—is Tao here?” Yixing nodded once, then stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. “He and I are supposed to be heading West this morning, to Kazir. I—we’re supposed to leave in like an hour. I thought I’d make sure he—”

“I’ll get him up.” Baekhyun nodded once. “Thank you, Baekhyun.”

“I—sure. No problem.” He ran his fingers through his hair. When Yixing turned to leave, he spoke again. “Yixing?”

“Mhm.”

Baekhyun exhaled quietly, voicing trembling when he spoke. “Tao’s my best friend in the entire world. I love him more than life itself. And I want you to know that if you hurt him, if you do _anything_ to hurt him, then I’ll kill you. I don’t give a shit what country you’re the prince of, I don’t give a shit what your gods think about you, I don’t give a shit what your gift is, if you hurt my best friend, I’ll gut you, and throw your dead body off of the top of the palace tower. Do you understand me?”

Yixing’s eyes softened slightly, and he smiled. “I do. Trust me, if I hurt him, I’ll throw myself off of the tower before you get the chance.” He paused. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

Baekhyun raised his chin slightly. “I’m lucky to have a friend like him. He saved me. I owe him everything.” He paused for a moment. “He’s been through a lot. If you aren’t prepared to deal with that, then leave him alone.”

“I’m coming to understand that.” Yixing looked at him for a moment before he spoke again. “Do you mind shedding some light on the situation?”

Baekhyun’s eyes flashed orange, but after a moment, he spoke, voice quieter than Yixing had expected. “I was going to say that it’s his business, not mine, but he—you might have noticed that he doesn’t like to tell people things.” Yixing nodded slowly. “Did he tell you why he left the Iron Crow?” Yixing nodded again. “He told you that he failed his mission, right? That he couldn’t go back because he would have been executed?”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you that he failed it intentionally, so that he wouldn’t have to go back?” Yixing blinked quickly, mouth opening slightly. “I—” he cut off when he heard a door open, heard footsteps approaching. “I have to go. Ask him about it.”

Baekhyun turned away and left quickly. Yixing sighed, then slipped back into his room, swearing to himself when he saw Zitao sitting up, blinking slowly, exhausted. “You… left?”

“Kitten, I was right outside, I promise. I didn’t want to wake you.” Yixing walked towards him, and climbed onto the bed beside Zitao, who crawled into his lap quickly, holding onto him. “That was Baekhyun. He says you two have to go West?”

A moment of silence, then two, then, “ _fuck_.” Zitao buried his face into Yixing’s shoulder, shuddering. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I meant to tell you, I just forgot.” Yixing hushed him quietly, wrapping an arm around Zitao’s waist, free hand cradling the back of his neck. “He—he’s right, we do have to, Minseok asked—told us to. I don’t really want to go, Baekhyun wants to go less than I do, but, you know, the Dark King said so.”

“Kitten, it’s okay. It’s _okay_.”

“But—but we were going to—you have to go back to Eliria. And I have to leave soon. We—Yixing, you _know_ what I’m trying to say.”

“I do, kitten.” Yixing kissed his forehead gently, then his cheek, squeezing the back of his neck. “We’ll figure it out. If I have to come back to Eishta, I will. If I have to find an excuse to get you to Eliria, I will. We’ll find a way.”

“But I wanted to—I want you _now_.” Zitao whined out the words, gripping tightly to Yixing’s shoulders. “I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to have to wait for you. I don’t want you to go back to Eliria. I want you to stay with me.”

As soon as he said that, he slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. His whole body had gone tense under Yixing’s hands, rigid with anxiety. After a few seconds, Yixing released his waist, in favor of wrapping his fingers gently around Zitao’s wrist. He didn’t tug, didn’t try to pull the hand away from his mouth, but after a few moments, Zitao let his hand fall into his lap. Yixing took his hand gently, then spoke, voice gentle. “Sweetheart.” Zitao looked away quickly, lower lip trembling. “Kitten, look at me.”

It took nearly a minute, but he did, eyes full of tears, face full of sadness, regret, and fear. Yixing’s eyes softened, so much so that Zitao’s stomach clenched painfully. He hated that, hated knowing that he was causing Yixing pain. “I’m s—”

“No, kitten, don’t be sorry.” Zitao whined softly. “Angel, you don’t have to apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I—I shouldn’t talk like that, I shouldn’t be that demanding, I shouldn’t ask that of you, you have your own life and things that you need to do, and I shouldn’t get in the way of that—”

“Sweetheart, you aren’t getting in the way of anything.” He squeezed Zitao’s fingers gently, smiling up at him. “Hey. It’s going to be okay.” He murmured the words, then leaned closer, to press a kiss, ever so soft, to the underside of Zitao’s jaw. “I know it’s not ideal. I know that you don’t like it. I don’t like it either.” He kissed his jaw again, and Zitao made a soft noise in his throat. “But if this is how it has to happen, then we’ll figure it out. We’ll make it work.”

“I—okay, _okay_ , but Yixing—”

“Yes, kitten?”

“I—will you… I want you to mark me.” Zitao breathed the words, then released Yixing’s shoulder, to tap the spot just under his ear. “Right there.”

“Are you sure?”

Zitao nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes, I’m sure, I want people to see it, _please.”_

_“Kitten, you’re going to meet with the King of Kazir and his son. I don’t think you want—”_

“Do it. Please.” He hummed softly when Yixing kissed the spot, the hum turning into a whine when Yixing’s mouth went to his shoulder instead. “ _Yixing_.” He fell silent when Yixing sucked on his collarbone, biting at the skin there. “Oh. _Oh_ \--” he squeezed Yixing’s fingers, hard. “I—ow, oh, please—" 

Yixing kept it up for a few moments longer before he withdrew. He smiled at Zitao, who grinned back, slightly dazed. “There. Happy?” 

“I—well, no, not quite.” Zitao moved, to push Yixing down onto his back. He leaned down, to kiss Yixing once, then twice. “Where can I put yours?” 

“Anywhere you want, angel.” Zitao hummed softly, kissed him once more, before his mouth moved to Yixing’s neck. “Even there, kitten. If you want.” Zitao huffed softly through his nose, nipped at Yixing’s earlobe, before his mouth latched onto the spot below his ear. He sucked hard, and Yixing sighed, content, squeezing the back of his neck gently. It wasn’t long before he felt teeth, nibbling at the skin gently, before sinking in deeper. 

Zitao pulled back, smiling, then kissed Yixing once. Yixing hummed quietly when he tasted blood on Zitao’s mouth, holding him there by the back of his neck. Zitao’s mouth came open, and Yixing chuckled, licking into his mouth easily. When he released Zitao, he pulled back, smiling brightly. “My pretty kitten, you’re so beautiful.” 

“Yixing—” 

“Please tell me, kitten, tell me that you believe me.” Zitao whined quietly. “Tell me that you believe that I think you’re truly beautiful. Please believe me when I tell you that you’re pretty.” 

His lower lip trembled, and he sniffled, kissed Yixing gently. “I believe that you think that. I believe that you think I’m pretty. But I… I don’t know. I’m trying. I promise I’m trying.” 

Yixing placed his hands on Zitao’s jaw, thumbs caressing his cheeks gently. “My precious little kitten. You’re so beautiful. I’m going to miss you so much, my sweet, but I’ll be back before you know it. You’ll have me back soon enough, I promise.” 

“I—really?” 

“Of course, kitten. You’ll have me back soon, I promise, kitten. And when you do, I’ll give you what you want. Okay?” Zitao nodded quickly, whining softly in his throat. “Give me a kiss.” Zitao kissed him softly, and when he pulled away, he was smiling. “Go. Baekhyun needs you.” 

Zitao got to his feet slowly. He grabbed his shirt, and tugged it on, then smiled brightly at Yixing. “I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you so much.” 

“I’ll miss you too, kitty. But it won’t be long, I promise. Okay?” Zitao nodded quickly, and started towards the door. He slipped out of the room quickly, leaving Yixing alone. 

He made his way down the hallway, and towards the front of the palace. On the way there, though, he heard labored breathing, and frowned, turned the corner towards the source of the noise. 

He instantly regretted that choice. 

Zitao really should have recognized the breathing. He knew that sound, and he realized that he knew that sound as soon as he spotted Baekhyun. Someone – at a second glance, that was Chanyeol – had Baekhyun pinned to the wall, one hand in his hair, the other under his ass, holding him up. Baekhyun’s legs were locked around his waist, his head thrown back against the wall, Chanyeol’s face pressed into his neck. He was gasping for breath, and he let out a low moan a moment later. 

Zitao wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but eventually, Chanyeol set Baekhyun down, pressing one final kiss to his forehead, before hugging him against his chest. “Soon.” 

Baekhyun laughed, breathless. “Yeah. Soon. As soon as I get back, I’ll find you. I’ll find you, and then we can—Tao, how long have you been standing there?” 

There was fear in his voice. “Um. I—long enough.” 

Baekhyun exhaled, long and slow. “Fuck. I—sorry, Tao. I’m sorry.” 

“Baek, it’s okay. You… you knew about… about my thing, I really don’t care about you and Chanyeol.” Chanyeol snorted quietly, kissed the top of Baekhyun’s head before releasing him. “But we really should be going. I’m sorry.” 

Baekhyun shrugged. “Not your fault. Minseok needs us to go, we’ll go.” He rose up on his toes to kiss Chanyeol one more time. “Soon. Don’t miss me too much, and don’t let that,” he gestured towards Chanyeol’s crotch, oh-so-subtly, “near anyone else, you hear?” 

Zitao looked away, blushing furiously, when Chanyeol grabbed Baekhyun by the throat and pushed him into the wall. “Brat. Trying to rile me up, are you?” 

“Mhm. Something like th- _oh_.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Zitao didn’t have to look to know exactly what Chanyeol was doing; Baekhyun’s quiet gasps were enough. “So, here’s the deal. You keep it in your pants, I’ll keep it in mine. Okay?” Baekhyun whined, high and needy, and Chanyeol kissed him gently. “Keep _this_ ,” a low moan followed his words, “to yourself.” 

“I-I _will_ , I was _kidding_ , I won’t do anything—” 

Chanyeol chuckled as he pulled away. “I know. The point stands.” He paused, and Zitao risked a glance back at them. Baekhyun was blushing furiously, but he pulled himself together quickly. “You be good, now. Take care of your friend. Take care of your country.” 

“I will.” 

“I’ll see you soon.” 

“Yes.” 

As Chanyeol walked away, Baekhyun came to stand beside Zitao, a dumb little smile on his face. Zitao snorted, then wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and tugged him down the hallway. “You two are fucking disgusting.” 

“Oh, you should have seen the look in Yixing’s eyes this morning, when I mentioned you. He’s fallen hard for you, you know.” He looked at Zitao for a moment. “Oh my _gods_. You have the same look!” Zitao blushed. “You’ve fallen for him, then?” 

“I… I think so. He’s… he’s… Baek, I think I love him.” Baekhyun raised an eyebrow. “Is that possible? Can you love someone after knowing them for three days?” 

“I think,” Baekhyun paused, considering, “that sometimes, things happen for a reason. Sometimes, things fall into place without any problem. Sometimes, you just _know.”_

*** 

__

_Crown Prince Sehun and Prince Luhan,_

_Allow me to first congratulate you on your impending marriage. There are few things more precious than a union such as this in our world; I do look forward to receiving my invitation._

__

_Second, I would like to congratulate Prince Luhan on his truly incredible display of intimidation. The King of Eishta is not an easy man to convince; the fact that you managed to call off a war as long as that in mere hours is something to be very proud of. You will go far as a member of the White Crown._

_Finally, I’d like to make something very clear. While the Dark King may be the sort to be scared of harm befalling his lovers, that same trick will not serve you well everywhere. There are people who cannot be intimidated, and the two of you would do well to remember it. There are people in this world who do not take kindly to arbitrary displays of violence._

_It would serve you well to understand that my country has never been well-served by alliances. In the past, every alliance we have ever forged has fallen apart, at the fault of our allies. We are more than capable of taking care of ourselves. There is little you can offer to appease our nation._

_Just something to keep in mind._

_Respectfully yours,_  
_Jiyong_

Sehun set the letter aside, put his head in his hands, sighing. This was bad. This was so very, very bad. He had known, of course, that Luhan’s actions in Eishta would not go unnoticed by Kazir. What he hadn’t expected was the severity of the Shadow Crown’s reaction. 

Jiyong and his father were very powerful men. Jiyong was right, about Kazir; they had never forged an alliance that had lasted for more than a few months. They were self-reliant, a completely independent nation to the West of Eishta. 

That meant they were dangerous. There wasn’t much that anyone could offer them; not Eliria, not Eishta, and not Sivalia. After a few moments, Sehun got to his feet, crumpling the letter in his hands. As he passed the fireplace, he tossed the paper into it, watching as the fire ate up the page. When it was gone, he left the office, catching Kyungsoo’s eye as he entered the hallway. He tipped his head to the side slightly, and Kyungsoo followed him through the hall, down a flight of stairs, and into the dungeon. They passed the room where Zitao and the others had been held and came to a halt outside of another closed door. It was silent beyond the door. 

“We got a letter from the Crown of Kazir.” Kyungsoo nodded slowly, eyes on the floor. “They heard about what happened between Minseok and Luhan, and they aren’t happy about it. They see it as an idle, arbitrary display of violence, a needless instigation. They didn’t necessarily threaten war, but it certainly sounded like it was a possibility.” 

“Sehun, this is exactly what I warned you about.” 

“I _know_ , Kyungsoo! I know.” He paused, kicking the floor gently. “If it comes to war, you know what we’re going to do?” Kyungsoo nodded, though he looked unhappy with the idea. “Let me make one thing clear: if this gets out, if _anyone_ finds out about this, then your position here, the life that you have built here, and the reputation that has thus far protected you from any backlash from the Crown for being what you are, all of that is gone.” 

After a moment, Kyungsoo nodded again. Sehun stepped away from him and opened another door. “Sehun, you know that I would never do anything to betray you. You know that I—” 

“Mhm.” He patted Kyungsoo on the shoulder. “You know, at one point in time, I might have believed that.” Before Kyungsoo really knew what was happening, he was standing inside the room, Sehun blocking the doorway, arms braced on the door frame. “At one point in time, I never would have considered _you_ being the one to betray me.” 

“Sehun—” 

“However, Kyungsoo, I had hoped that _you_ might remember that I have been the one finding and thwarting traitors since I was old enough to speak. I had hoped that you would remember that I, as the Crown Prince of Sivalia, know a traitor when I see one.” He paused, considering Kyungsoo for a moment. “And I had thought you might have remembered what exactly my fiancé’s gift is.” 

“Your Highness—” 

"Kyungsoo, there are very few people who can fool me. I congratulate you on being able to do it for as long as you did.” He smiled tightly, eyes serious as he gazed at Kyungsoo. “I’ve seen a lot of shit in my life. I’ve seen a lot of kinds of treachery. But mind-sharing with the King of Eishta? I think that’s a new one.” 

“I _didn’t_ \--” he cut off when Sehun’s eyes flashed white, a gust of wind slicing through the air. “Sehun, I wouldn’t—” 

Sehun chuckled. “I thought you knew better than to lie to me.” He turned on his heel and closed the door behind him, sliding the lock into place. “I really thought you knew better.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the formatting on this is weird? It got hella fucked up somehow. I think I fixed all of it, but if not... oh well.


	15. Chapter 15

“And you didn’t think I’d want to _know_ about this?” Luhan snarled the words at Yixing, moments before he hurled a vase across the room at him. “You fucking knew about this, and you didn’t think that it might be good for me to know about it? You didn’t think to ask if I knew about it? This is my _country_ that we’re talking about, my country that’s being threatened, my country that’s in danger. You knew about that danger and you intentionally kept it quiet.” Luhan went silent for a moment. “ _Why_?”

Yixing exhaled quietly. Luhan’s anger was understandable, though the thrown vase had been unnecessary. He was right; Yixing probably should have said something earlier. “Luhan—”

“ _Answer me_!”

Yixing took a deep breath, nodding as he spoke. “I—I saw something, a few months ago. I didn’t think anything of it, because I had seen no signs of it in our world, so it didn’t seem relevant.” He bowed his head. “And it had nothing to do with Sivalia or Eliria, so I wasn’t planning on telling you, or the White Crown.” He paused, avoiding Luhan’s gaze. “And then, a… a week ago, maybe a little longer, but it was before I went to Eishta, something in the Web snapped.”

“And you didn’t think to mention _that_?”

“No, because I still don’t know what it was that broke! I don’t know what happened, that’s part of why I went to Eishta; I wanted answers. I didn’t find them.” He saw Luhan’s fingers twitching, but thankfully, there were no more throwable objects within his reach. “All I know was that when I checked the pool, I saw Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, and the Shadow King. Or, well, that’s who I assumed it was. I’ve never actually _seen_ him.”

“Okay, once again—”

“I know. I should have said something, but the pool isn’t exactly the greatest at explaining why it shows the people that it does. I didn’t know that Kyungsoo was… was what he is. I didn’t even know he was hell-touched, until you told me.” Yixing rubbed at his face with his hands, wincing as the palm of one hand rubbed against his mark. “Luhan, if he’s working for the Shadow King, if he’s _been_ working for the Shadow King, then that’s kind of the bigger concern here.”

That idea was unappreciated. Yixing had known it would be, but he hadn’t expected the book that was thrown his way. Luhan, thankfully, wasn’t a very good shot. “Luhan—”

“Get the fuck out.”

Yixing got to his feet, but before he could say a word, Sehun spoke from where he was standing by the door. “Luhan, we need him. This isn’t just about Sivalia.”

Luhan turned to glare at him, murder and fury and anger in his eyes, but he didn’t say a word, merely sat down with a huff. Sehun crossed the room slowly, to stand behind him, one hand coming to rest on his shoulder, but Luhan shrugged out from under it. “I know that.”

Sehun looked worried for a moment, before he looked at Yixing again. “Neither of us can break the bond between Kyungsoo and… whoever he’s helping. At this point, I don’t know if it’s the Dark King or the Shadow Crown, it doesn’t make much of a difference. Either way, it’s a problem. He’s locked away in the dungeon, where he’ll stay, but he knows so much. I’d rather he not be able to share what he knows, with anyone.”

“It’s not the Dark King.”

Luhan’s eyes flashed. “And you know this _how_ , exactly?”

“Because, Luhan, I spent the last three days in Eishta’s palace. I spent a fairly sizeable portion of that time inside of his head, picking him apart. He’s not mind-sharing with anyone.” Yixing spat the words like acid, and Luhan glared at him furiously. “The Dark King has, however, sent two representatives to Kazir. Two of the hell-touched that came here, if I’m not mistaken.”

Sehun opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, they were interrupted by shouting from the hallway. He winced when he heard Joonmyun’s voice, louder than the others by a wide margin.

“—I don’t give a _shit_ what country you’re the King of, you can’t just come storming into the palace completely unannounced! You aren’t _welcome_ \--”

They all jumped when something – probably someone – hit a wall, hard. Luhan sighed softly when Jongin piped up, angrier than they’d ever heard him. “As much as I hate to agree with him, your Majesty, _no one_ wants you—” He was cut off with a loud thud.

Luhan was on his feet in two seconds when the door swung open. Jongin, it seemed, had been thrown against it, his body now limp on the floor. Minseok was standing on the other side, his eyes glowing silver. Not far behind him, they could see Joonmyun leaning against the wall, nose bleeding, fury in his eyes.

When Luhan spoke, his voice was quiet, but furious. “As much as _I_ hate to agree with Joonmyun, he has a point. You aren’t welcome here.”

Minseok wasn’t looking at him, his attention focused on Yixing. After a few seconds, he spoke, voice razor thin. Impatient. Angry. Concerned? “When you were fucking around in his head,” he paused, breathing heavily. Betrayed. “did you see where his loyalty lay? Did you _see_ that he no longer served me? Because if you did, I will—”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Minseok’s gaze snapped to Luhan’s. “Whose head? Whose loyalty? Why was—” he cut off, turned to Yixing. “ _Why_ were you in Eishta, exactly? You never… what’s going _on_?”

Minseok chuckled quietly as he turned back to Yixing. “Do you want to tell them? Or shall I?”

Yixing put his head back in his hands, groaning quietly, before he spoke. “When Kris… when Kris came back from Eishta, he came to me, with a request. Basically, in Minseok’s dungeon, there was a hell-touched who had been badly wounded in a mission, and he was dying, but Zitao – you remember him – froze him in time. If he dropped the—we called it the time-bubble, and if he dropped it, then the hell-touched would die.

“I wasn’t going to do anything about it, because I—well, as you know, I’m not particularly fond of hell-touched. I told Kris that much. He understood that, and he left me alone, but then… when I saw those things in the pool, Luhan, Eridan came to me and told me that I was to go to Eishta and save this hell-touched when I was summoned. So, I went.

“But I didn’t want to go alone. I’m not exactly the most battle-ready person in the world, so Eridan arranged to have someone join me when I passed through Sivalia. I didn’t know that Chanyeol was your—”

“Wait, _what_? Chanyeol—”

“Went with me to Eishta. I didn’t know that he was hell-touched, I certainly didn’t know that he served Sehun, until we were long gone. And then we got there, and I—well, I fixed the problem, barely. And while I was doing, I got to see… into his mind. You know how it is.” Luhan nodded slowly, still shocked. “Minseok, he’s… I didn’t see that. I didn’t know that his loyalties had shifted, I swear to you.”

After a moment, Minseok nodded slowly. “Yeah. I—I believe you.” He swallowed, then looked away. “I’m sorry, that I came here like this. But I—as soon as he was strong enough to move – which was quick, thanks to you – he was gone.”

Yixing bowed his head, then got to his feet. “Zitao and Baekhyun went to Kazir.” Minseok nodded. “They took Chanyeol with them, did you know that?” Another nod, this one followed by a noise of outrage from Sehun. “Do you know what they told the Sivalian Crown?”

“I figure it’s much the same as what they told me.” The silver in his eyes faded gradually. “That there isn’t a damn thing I can offer them to get them to stop a war?”

“Pretty much.” Sehun’s voice was tight, controlled. “I know that Eishta is powerful, your Majesty, but you aren’t that strong. You cannot risk a war with Kazir.”

“You think I’m not aware of that fact?” Sehun looked away quickly. “You think I’m not aware that I risk a war simply by being here, speaking to you? I know what I’m risking, Sehun.” He cut off for a moment, then spoke again. “I also know that he’s going to declare a war as soon as he gets Hoseok back. There’s nothing stopping him. There’s nothing I can do to stop it from happening. The Shadow Crown doesn’t like me, doesn’t like Eishta, and for that reason—”

“No.”

“Luhan, you don’t even know—”

“Yes, I do.” Luhan looked Minseok in the eyes. “You want us to help you, when he declares his war. You want our aid.” It wasn’t a question, but Minseok nodded his agreement. “Why would we? After everything that you’ve done?”

“Luhan—”

He shot a look at Sehun, silencing him. Minseok sighed, then glanced back at Joonmyun, who was in the process of trying to shake Jongin awake, before speaking. “Who else am I supposed to ask, Luhan? I may very well have sent my two most powerful hell-touched into a death trap, my country is on the brink of a war that isn’t going to be stopped. I have nowhere else to turn, no one else to go to for help.” He paused, looking like he’d rather not say the next words that rose on his tongue. “If Eishta falls, then so does Sivalia, and so does Eliria. You know that.”

Luhan rose with a huff, and left the room, dragging Joonmyun with him by the back of his shirt. He slammed the door behind them, and Sehun waited until their footsteps had faded into silence, before he spoke. “Go home, your Majesty. I’ll talk to my parents. If nothing else,” he paused, glanced at Jongin’s limp body, then at Yixing, “I’ll stand with you, when the time comes. I don’t like you, but I like Kazir’s royal family even less.”

“We have that in common.” Yixing murmured the words, then met Minseok’s gaze. “Your servant, Jungguk? I want to speak to him.”

“You—you’re more than welcome to, though I don’t understand why you’d want to.”

Yixing nodded slowly. “I’ll return to Eliria, I’ll speak to Kris, though I’m sure that, given your arrangement with him, he won’t have any problems aiding Eishta in this fight. And then I’ll come see Jungguk.” He got to his feet a moment later. “Someone get Jongin to bed, he needs to sleep it off. I’ll see what I can do about Luhan before I leave.”

He followed the way Luhan had gone a moment later, leaving Sehun and Minseok alone. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before Minseok broke the silence, his voice softer than Sehun had ever expected. “I want to see Kyungsoo.”

“No.”

“Sehun, I understand your concern, but if this is a matter of—”

“I said no. I don’t trust you, your Majesty, and I’m not letting you anywhere near him. Now, if we’re done here, you’re welcome to leave. No one will stop you.” Sehun rose to his feet, then stopped when he saw the look in Minseok’s eyes. “You were mind-sharing with him.”

“Yes.”

Sehun exhaled quietly, closed his eyes for a moment. “Did Yixing lie to us, or are you just exceptionally good at hiding the truth from him?”

“It’s… complicated.” Sehun’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t know the details. Zitao’s responsible for it. Right now, the more pressing issue is Kazir.”

“I know,” Sehun said, then walked towards the door. “Go home. I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear from my parents.” As Minseok stepped out of the door, he glanced back at Sehun.

“Thank you.”

***

Kyungsoo chuckled darkly when he heard the door to his cell open, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth when he found himself face to face with Luhan, Joonmyun at his shoulder. The latter looked like he’d rather be anywhere else; Luhan must have dragged him down here.

“How kind of you to come visit me, after your lover – and your brother, Joonmyun – so lovingly threw me in here. After everything I’ve done for your family, this is the treatment I get.” His eyes were solid black, unblinking, terrifying. Luhan didn’t flinch. “I wasn’t given a breath to defend myself with. I would _never_ betray Sivalia.” A moment passed, then Luhan crossed the room, to kneel in front of him. He gestured, and Kyungsoo exhaled, then leaned forward, head bowed, the back of his neck bared.

Luhan glanced back at Joonmyun. “You hear anyone coming, you keep them away from here. Especially Sehun.”

Joonmyun raised an eyebrow, eyes mocking. “And I’m going to listen to you… why?”

“Because very soon, Joonmyun, I’m going to be your King.” After a moment, Joonmyun nodded, then stepped out of the cell, leaving them alone. “You want to prove your innocence, Kyungsoo? You’d better hope that there’s nothing incriminating in your mind.”

He reached around Kyungsoo, to place a hand on his mark, fingers digging into the muscle of his neck. Kyungsoo winced, but didn’t try to move, held perfectly still underneath Luhan’s grip. After a few moments, he felt Luhan’s mind pressing into his, filling every corner of his consciousness, untangling the mess of thoughts that occupied Kyungsoo’s head.

_I love him. I love him, I love him, I love him, my precious love._

_“I trust you.”_

_“And I will do everything I can to never break that trust.”_

_“I can’t keep doing this with you. We can’t do this anymore.”_

_Hate. Anger. Disgust. Fury. Betrayal. Pain. Loss. Empty. Pain. Hate. Pain._

_I can’t be with someone like him. I can’t love someone like him._

Luhan had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes at that one, but he was stunned into silence at the thought that came through next.

 _He’s too good for someone like me. He should have someone who can give him everything he wants and needs, he deserves so much more than what I can give him._ A beat of silence, then two, and then, _I would never hurt him._

Luhan bit his tongue, to hold back a snarky remark. _I don’t know what’s going on in my head, there are huge chunks of my memory that just don’t exist, I don’t know where they are, I don’t know what I’m forgetting, I don’t know why I’m forgetting it._ Another lapse into silence, then, _he’s going to get hurt._

There was another pause, this one filled with nothing but darkness. That was the gap of memory that he was missing, then, or at least one of them. That was… worrying.

He pulled his hand away a moment later, and Kyungsoo looked up at him, tears dripping down his cheeks. “I’m going to go talk to Sehun. Stay here.” He pulled open the door. “Joonmyun, stay here.”

“ _What_?”

“Stay with him. Don’t leave him alone, unless you’re going to lock the door behind you.” Luhan stepped away from him, patted Joonmyun as the shoulder as he went past. He made his way upstairs, back towards Sehun’s office. He was waiting outside when Luhan arrived, and he held out a hand, which Luhan took without a word.

“Where did you go?”

“Kyungsoo is innocent.” Sehun gritted his teeth but didn’t interrupt. “He might have been mind-sharing, but it wasn’t willful. He didn’t consent to it, he didn’t agree to let whoever was in his head in there. Anything that he’s told the Dark King – and that’s who it was, of that I have no doubt – he didn’t tell him of his own volition.”

“Minseok said that mind-share was complicated.”

Luhan nodded slowly. “Yes, I can imagine it would be. It’s not easy regardless but doing it without consent is… is something else entirely. I don’t… I don’t think Minseok did that on his own. I think he had help, and I desperately want to know who it was, because I want to figure out how they did it.” _I want to know how he did it, because I want to know if I can do it._

“He’s really innocent?” Luhan nodded quickly. “What else did you learn?”

“He loves Jongin. He… broke it off with him because he—he doesn’t feel like he deserves someone like Jongin. He thinks Jongin deserves so much better than what he can give.” Luhan squeezed Sehun’s fingers gently. “I’m sorry that I lost control back there. I should have… I should have been kinder to him.”

Sehun shook his head once, kissed Luhan’s forehead, then led him towards the dining room. “I need you to talk to my parents, later. They like you. They like your mind. You have the kind of mind that they think a King should have. I need you to convince them that allying with Minseok is a good idea.”

“I’ll do my best, but—”

Luhan cut off when the wall of the hallway exploded inwards. Sehun threw out a hand, and a gust of wind swept through the air, pushing debris away from them. Most of it missed them, but a small shard of stone slipped through, slicing across Luhan’s cheek. He swore loudly, and Sehun turned quickly to him. “I—Luhan, I’m sorry—”

“No, not your fault. Go—Joonmyun and Kyungsoo are downstairs, go get them, I’ll go get your parents.” Sehun opened his mouth to argue, but Luhan cut him off. “We need to go. We can’t stay here.” His words were punctuated by the sound of another explosion, more of the palace crumbling away. “ _Go_. Meet me in the tunnels.”

Sehun hesitated for a moment, ducking down to kiss Luhan before he darted off. Luhan exhaled quietly, then made his way towards the King and Queen’s quarters, but before he got there, he was thrown to the ground by a third blast. Pain lanced through his spine, and he screamed, as the pain in his body transformed rapidly into pain in his mind.

_Fire fire fire fire burning hatred pain anger fury fire betrayal heat fire breakage pain anger fury burning burn ashes scorching fire danger fury pain anger fire pain fire pain._

“Mm, I did warn you, did I not?”

A soft murmur, danger and shadow and darkness and smoke, and another shot of pain.

_Fire fire fire burning scorching burned ashes fury pain anger fire fire hatred pain fury breaking anger fury burning fury anger pain fire pain fire pain fire pain fire fury anger._

“Did I not warn you? Did you not _read_ the warning? You are always so good at reading between the lines, pretty Prince, surely you got that one.”

Luhan twisted around, but before he could do anything, fire ripped through his blood, shadows tugging at the edges of his vision. “Yeah, I did— _shit_!” He screamed again, contorting on the floor. “I thought you were above _attacking someone without being provoked_ , you fucking monster— _fuck_!”

He felt a hand on his jaw, and he was pulled upright, eyes narrow as he glared at his attacker. “Hello, pretty Prince. It has been a long time, no?”

Luhan, somehow, was able to get his legs around his attacker’s waist, flipping him around and pinning him down. “Never long enough, Jiyong.”

Jiyong laughed, eyes gleaming, and a moment later, Luhan collapsed. “Oh, you, my love, are so lucky that I am not here for you. Otherwise,” he paused, touched his fingers to Luhan’s temple, “well, pretty Prince, otherwise I would have my fun with you.” After a moment, he shoved Luhan aside, then rose to his feet. “This has been a lovely chat, my love. I think… mm, yes, I think I will see you soon, no?”

Luhan swore at him, and after a few seconds, the pain consumed him again. _Fire fire fire fire burning hatred pain fury fire betrayal heat fire pain fury burning burn ashes fire danger fury pain anger fire pain fire pain fire pain fire fire fire fire fire._

*

When Luhan came to, he very quickly shot to his feet, stumbling for a moment before righting himself. He blinked a few times, exhaling quietly, then made his way down the hallway.

When he entered the King and Queen’s quarters, he froze. The window was wide open, curtains fluttering in the soft breeze, and after a few moments, Luhan spotted the bodies on the floor. He looked away quickly, trying to swallow his nerves, and then he looked back at them.

Shit.

Shit shit _fuck_. Sehun was going to be angry, he was going to be upset, and he was going to shut down as soon as he found out about this. That wasn’t going to end well.

Ten minutes passed, and then he squared his shoulders, turned on his heel, and walked out of the room. He made his way quickly through the hallways, trying to ignore the crumbling walls around him. As he found his way to the tunnels, a storm of thoughts spiraled in his mind.

“Luhan—oh gods, what _happened_?”

Luhan shook his head once. “I’ll tell you later. For now, we need to get out of here.” He looked at Sehun for a moment, then at Joonmyun and Kyungsoo. “Where’s Jongin?”

“He—”

“No!”

“No, he’s fine, Luhan.” Luhan relaxed marginally, trying to hide the fear in his eyes. “He, ah, he zapped himself out of here. Scouting ahead, he called it?” Luhan sighed, then nodded once. “We need to go. Come on.” Sehun turned on his heel and started down the tunnel. Luhan walked at his side, Kyungsoo and Joonmyun a few feet behind them.

They all jumped when Jongin appeared in front of them. He mouthed an apology but fell into line beside Luhan. “Whatever they came for, they have it. They’re gone.” After a few seconds, he swallowed, glanced back at Joonmyun and Kyungsoo for a brief moment. “Your Highness, I—did you—”

“I saw him, yes.” Jongin’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t say the question that was bouncing around in his head. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yes. I’m fine, I just… Minseok is a lot stronger than he looks. He, ah, he threw me into that door, and it was very painful, but I’m fine. Are—are you?”

“Later, Jongin.”

“Yes, your Highness.” Jongin bowed his head, walked forward in silence for a few minutes, before he spoke again. “I’ll be right back.” He vanished into thin air. A moment passed, then two, then he reappeared, closer to Kyungsoo this time. He stepped away from him quickly, almost without meaning to, and stumbled into Joonmyun, who grabbed his upper arm to keep him upright. Jongin flinched away, meeting Joonmyun’s eyes for a moment. As he did, an unspoken understanding passed between them, and Jongin’s eyes softened slightly.

As he rejoined Luhan, he leaned down to murmur quietly into his ear. “We aren’t safe. We aren’t safe at all, and we need to get out of these tunnels as quickly as possible. You four keep going, I’m going to go find Yixing and Minseok, they can’t have gotten far.”

“That’s stupid—”

“Yeah. I know. Trust me.” He vanished a second later, and Luhan swore quietly to himself.

“What’s going on, Luhan?”

He looked at Sehun for a moment, then spoke. “We need to get out of here. _Now_.”

***

_Stupid stupid stupid this was so dumb he was out of his fucking mind this was such a terrible idea, for so many different reasons, stupid stupid_ stupid.

Jongin snapped out of those thoughts as he snapped into being, far closer to Yixing than he had anticipated. He stumbled backwards, into a wall, an apology on his tongue, but he held it back when he saw the look in Yixing’s eyes. “We—you saw the attacks.” Yixing nodded quickly. “I need to get you back to the others. Now.”

“Go on, then.” Yixing allowed Jongin to grab him, but before he vanished, he spoke again. “It was Kazir, yes?” Jongin nodded slowly, worry appearing in his eyes. “Is Luhan alright?”

“No. No, he’s not. He—he saw Jiyong, but he won’t tell me what happened, not while the others are around. He doesn’t want Sehun to know about it.” Yixing hummed quietly. “I’m scared.”

“Are _you_ alright? Did Jiyong find _you_?” Jongin shook his head quickly. “Are you sure?” A nod. “Ah, you and Luhan. My two favorite hard-heads, yes?” A moment passed in silence, then they vanished. When they reappeared, the others were expecting it, but Joonmyun was still startled.

“You’re okay.” Luhan pulled Yixing into a hug for a moment, then looked at Jongin. “Don’t you dare—” before he could finish the sentence, Jongin was gone. “Fucking _idiot_!”

Yixing hushed him. “No. Let him help. This is what he does best, as you very well know. He’s more than capable of handling this.” Luhan growled, eyes flashing, but he knew that Yixing was right. Yixing was always right. “Let’s keep moving, shall we?”

He turned on his heel and continued down the tunnel. They were approaching the end, now; Yixing could see the gradual lightening in the distance. After a few seconds, he pushed ahead, just slightly, keeping his senses aware, just in case. Jongin was worried about something, he was worried for a reason. Yixing didn’t know why, but he was sure it was a good reason.

He came to a rather sudden halt at the mouth of the tunnel. The city before him was in ruins, crumbled buildings and scorched earth and burning trees. His mouth fell open in a silent gasp, then his brow furrowed, as he glanced back at the others. “ _How_?”

Sehun shook his head slowly. “I don’t… I don’t know. This… I’ve never seen something of this magnitude before. I’ve never seen anyone do anything like this. I can’t—I can’t fathom where to begin doing something like this.”

Luhan looked at Sehun for a moment, then wrapped his arms around his waist. Sehun, wordless, put an arm around his shoulders, swallowing hard. It was Joonmyun who broke the silence, his voice rougher than usual, the only indication of his distress. “It’s—we need to—”

He cut off, jaw clenching furiously, and after a few seconds, Luhan picked up where he’d left off. “We need to know if there’s anyone still alive in this city. We need to find them. And then we need to make a plan.” After a moment, Luhan pulled away from Sehun, and took his hand. “C’mon. We can’t stay here.” He and Sehun started down the hill that sloped down into the city, and after a brief hesitation, Yixing and Joonmyun followed. Kyungsoo stayed just a moment longer, hand curling into a fist as a section of the tunnel collapsed, effectively blocking anyone from entering or exiting.

When he caught up to them, Sehun was speaking, his voice quiet. “The people of Sivalia would not have been… they can’t all be dead, they’re more prepared for an attack than anyone I’ve ever met.” Luhan hummed quietly.

“Why is that?” Yixing asked, eyes on Sehun.

Joonmyun snorted. “Sivalia is dead-locked between Eishta and Eliria. It comes with the territory. Surely someone as smart as _you_ could—”

“Joonmyun, enough.”

“Yes, your _Highness_ ,” he hissed at Sehun, words dripping venom. A strange look passed over Luhan’s eyes, but he didn’t speak again, kept his eyes on the ground.

Kyungsoo, it seemed, had noticed it, too. “Luhan?” Luhan glanced over at him. “Where are the King and Queen?”

The silence spoke for itself, at least to Kyungsoo and Yixing. It didn’t, it seemed, do the same for Sehun. He looked at Luhan quickly, mouth hanging slightly open. “What?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Where _are_ my parents?”

A beat of silence, then two, that stretched into uncomfortable. Luhan didn’t say anything, his gaze fixed resolutely on the ground in front of them.

None of them were expecting Joonmyun to speak, much less move. Before any of them knew what was happening, Luhan was flat on his back, Joonmyun on top of him, one hand wrapped around Luhan’s neck, the other one resting on the ground by his head. “What did you—where are my _parents_ , Luhan, tell me or I swear I’ll—” He was cut off when Yixing collided with him, shoving him aside. “You—where the _fuck_ are they?”

Joonmyun was on his feet in seconds, but before he could do anything, Kyungsoo had a hand wrapped around his upper arm, and was dragging him away. He fought until Kyungsoo pulled him behind the broken wall of a building, pushing him against the wall. Yixing held out a hand to help Luhan to his feet, his eyes on Sehun.

“I was going to tell you, as soon as we were safe. As soon as we were all back together, I swear to you, I was going to tell you about them. And that,” he gestured at where Joonmyun and Kyungsoo had gone, “is exactly why I didn’t say anything until now. Because I knew how it would affect him, and I could guess at how it would affect you, and I was right.” He fell silent, gasping for breath. Yixing touched a hand to his neck and he flinched, but Yixing hushed him quietly. “I’m sorry, Sehun.”

“’s not your fault.” Sehun held still for a long, silent moment. “You didn’t… you didn’t do it.”

He brushed past Luhan without a word, and in moments, had disappeared into the city. Luhan turned to follow, but Yixing grabbed his upper arm, inclined his head slightly, towards where Joonmyun and Kyungsoo had emerged and were approaching them. Joonmyun watched Sehun go but didn’t try to follow. He didn’t look at Luhan.

“We have to keep moving.” Yixing’s words were a soft murmur, and Kyungsoo nodded his agreement. He had a hand on Joonmyun’s shoulder. “Will Jongin be able to find us?”

Luhan nodded, not before Yixing saw the flash of pain across Kyungsoo’s face. “He—he’ll find us fine. You’re right, we need to go.”

They made their way through the streets without speaking to each other, Luhan leading the way while Yixing brought up the rear, Kyungsoo and Joonmyun in between them. Kyungsoo hadn’t released Joonmyun, grip tightening when Joonmyun tried to pull away.

As time went on, Yixing became more and more aware of the fact that Jongin still hadn’t returned. That was, he was sure, partly because he was so in tune with Luhan, and Luhan was worried about him, too. The unease settled under his skin, in the corners of his mind, a constant reminder that he was out there, alone, looking for possibly one of the most dangerous men in the world. Alone.

And ordinarily, Yixing would have reached out for the web, to try and find Jongin, but he wasn’t nearly as attuned to him as he had been a few months ago, when Jongin had lived in Eliria. His energy read nearly Sivalian, now, enough so that he didn’t stick out in this city.

He was sure Luhan would ask, later. He didn’t want to have to see the look on his face when he told him there was nothing he could do.

***

Jongin had always liked his gift.

He liked being able to vanish from one place and reappear a hundred miles away.

What he wasn’t a fan of was the actual process of getting to that place. Even thought it only lasted a few moments in real-time, to him, it felt like an eternity. A vice-like, claustrophobic, unbearable eternity, in which he couldn’t breathe, every inch of his body lit up in pain, and he couldn’t fucking _move_.

It had scared the shit out of him the first time he’d done it, and it still scared him today.

But he had never, _never_ experienced something like this, in all of the years since he’d started doing it.

It had started normal; no breathing, no movement, pain, ice-cold, frozen pain, like the time he’d fallen through the ice and into the freezing waters of that stupid lake just outside of the Elirian palace, because Luhan had dared him to walk across it, and he couldn’t say no.

And the next thing he knew, he had been ripped out of it, the ice-cold replaced with burning hot, body flipping through the air before colliding with what he assumed was a pile of rubble, based on the way that it ripped through his skin. Everything hurt, but this time, it was real pain, not just pain in his head. He couldn’t see, the world around him blurry and dark and terrifying.

He had felt something like this before, not too long ago, when Jiyong had found him in the palace. But even that… even that had been pain in his mind, imagined, ignorable if he really tried. He couldn’t ignore the feeling of shards of rock piercing his skin, digging into his back.

“You must be the shadow walker.”

And all at once, he could see again. There, not more than ten feet from him, stood a man, mouth twisted into something of a smile. After a few seconds, he walked closer, and then, then Jongin could really see the danger in his eyes. “What—”

“Oh, how rude of me.” He held out a hand, and after a moment, Jongin took it, eyeing him carefully. The man pulled him to his feet, still smiling, before he spoke again. “Sorry to pull you out of your jump like that, I just really needed your attention and if you’d gotten to Minseok, I wouldn’t have gotten the chance.”

“How did you—”

“Besides, I can’t exactly have you finding the Dark King. That throws a little bit of a wrench in the plan, and I can’t have that happening. Sorry.” He pulled back a fist, and before Jongin could react, he had punched him, hard.

He reeled backwards, collapsing onto the rubble again, as the man turned on his heel. He started to walk away, but before he could get very far, Jongin moved.

_Pain pain pain cold frozen pain can’t breathe can’t see can’t speak can’t move pain pain pain hurts can’t see pain can’t breathe pain can’t speak pain can’t move pain_.

When the pain vanished, he was standing in front of the man, who looked surprised, even more so when Jongin took a swing at him, fist colliding with his jaw. The man stumbled, but before he could go far, Jongin had moved, bringing them both to the ground.

It reminded him vaguely of when he had first come to Eliria, before he’d come to serve Luhan. It was a scrap, little more, no rules, no restrictions, you did what you had to in order to win.

But he had started this fight at a disadvantage, and they both knew it. Before long, the man had Jongin on his stomach, arms behind his back, pinned against his body painfully. “Oh, you’re a _fighter_ , are you, you don’t know when to give up.” Jongin thrashed, trying to throw him off, but it didn’t work. “You should have stayed down when I punched you the first time, Jongin.”

“Sorry, bad habit. I don’t yield to shit-bags like you.” He spat the words, and the man chuckled quietly. “Who the fuck _are_ you?”

The man laughed, then pulled Jongin’s head back slightly. “The name’s Hoseok, shadow walker. If you’re alive when they find you, you can let them know that you got it easy. The others are hurting so much worse than you are.” He used his grip on Jongin’s hair to slam his head forward, and then the weight was gone.

And then the world was dark.

***

“We need to talk about it at some point, Kyungsoo.”

He didn’t say a word as Luhan came to sit beside him, pulling his knees against his chest. They sat in silence for a long time, before Kyungsoo finally spoke. “It’s none of your business.”

“Bullshit. Try again.”

“Everything that I said to Sehun was the truth. I can’t be with someone like him.” Luhan rolled his eyes, and after a few seconds, Kyungsoo tried again. “I don’t want to hurt him. If he’s with me, he’ll get hurt.”

“Kyungsoo, you love him. And I know for a fact that he loves you, just as much. He would do anything to get you back.” Luhan paused, looking at the ground intently. “Why didn’t you tell anyone, that you were losing your memory?”

“Because I knew how they would react. I knew that the first thing that Sehun would do was lock me up and try to use me to figure out who was doing it, so he could stop them from stealing Sivalian secrets. I don’t know how much you know about mind-sharing, Luhan, but trying to figure out who’s doing one is hard—”

“Kyungsoo, I know that. I’ve done it before.” Kyungsoo’s shock showed on his face, but he let Luhan continue. “It’s still active, isn’t it?” After a moment, Kyungsoo nodded. “I can break it.” Kyungsoo’s brow furrowed slightly. “Well, breaking it would take time. I could block your mind, though, so they can’t get in there while we’re on the move.”

“You’re just trying to get me back with Jongin.”

“I think you want to get back with Jongin. I think that you’re going to tell me yes, because you want to try again with him. And once you have the whole mind-share business out of the way, you think that he’ll take you back.” Luhan snorted, the sound humorless. “I think you also know that Jongin isn’t going to take you back that easily. You have to show him that you’re worth it, because you hurt him.”

“Once again, you’re just assuming that I—”

“You realize I can read your mind, right? I know when you’re lying to me.” Luhan smiled brightly at him. “You want to get back with him? Show him that you deserve him.”

Luhan started to get to his feet, but before he could, Kyungsoo grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to the ground. “He loves me?”

“He does.”

Kyungsoo exhaled quietly, then nodded. After a few seconds, he released Luhan, who got to his feet, and walked away, leaving Kyungsoo alone.

Not far from them, Joonmyun was sitting, back pressed up against the one standing wall of a building, cross-legged, head in his hands. He knew that Kyungsoo was watching him, watching for a sign that Joonmyun would snap and lash out again, like he’d done earlier, but thus far, it hadn’t come.

His parents were dead.

His parents were gone, and he hadn’t gotten to say goodbye.

There were not many things in the world that Joonmyun cared about. His parents had been one of those things, and now they were gone. Just like that, ripped from his life.

 _They loved you, more than anything, you know that. They loved you, and they would not have wanted you to hurt him, hurt_ anyone _for them._

And so what if they hadn’t? They were gone, weren’t they? What they had wanted didn’t matter, not anymore. Not to him. He was a Prince of Sivalia, he could decide for himself what really mattered, and who really needed to be hurt.

_You are better than this. You are a better man than this. I know that you can hurt people, you’re more than capable, but sometimes, what matters more is whether or not we choose to help people, rather than hurting them. You are your father’s son, that much is true, but you are also mine._

If there was one thing that Joonmyun didn’t do, it was cry. He squeezed his eyes shut, biting down on his hand to stop himself from sobbing as a tear broke free, slipping down his face and off of his chin. He wasn’t going to cry. Not about this. Crying was something that Sehun did.

_Your parents cherished every moment that they had with you. They loved you, from the very start, and all that they ever wanted was for you to be happy. Hurting Luhan isn’t going to make you happy, and you know it._

And as much as he hated the hell-touched that his parents had made the Crown Commander, he was right. He had been right about a lot of things. He’d been right about Luhan, he’d been right about Jongin, he’d been right about the intruders coming to the palace on that night, and he was right about this, too.

_You are my son. You will always be my son. Do not ever forget that._

And he wouldn’t. His parents had loved him. He was the person that he was because of them.

_I want you to be happy, because seeing you happy makes me happy._

What made him happy?

He’d been alive for a while, now, and he still didn’t know the answer to that question. He had absolutely no fucking clue how to be happy. He could see, on Sehun’s face, that he was happy when he was with Luhan. He had seen, once or twice, on Kyungsoo’s face, that he was happy when he was with Jongin, or when he was dictating military strategy.

“Joonmyun?”

He looked up quickly, wiping tears off of his face. “What, Sehun?” He sounded angrier than he was, and after a few seconds, he sighed. “What is it?”

Sehun didn’t speak, as he sat beside Joonmyun, and held up an arm. Joonmyun held still for a moment, then exhaled quietly, leaning into Sehun’s body, allowing his brother to wrap an arm around his shoulders, squeezing gently. “It’s okay, you know, to be upset.” Joonmyun nodded once. “But if you put your hands on him again, I’ll kill you.”

“I know. You’re very protective of the people that you love.”

Sehun swallowed, then squeezed Joonmyun tighter. “That includes you, you know. If anyone ever hurts you, I’ll hurt them back. You’re my brother, it’s my _job_ to protect you.”

“You’re stupid.”

Sehun laughed quietly. “I know.”

***

“Oh, come _on_!” Jongdae hissed quietly at the glass orb in his hands, then dropped it on the bed beside him with a huff. He hadn’t used the thing very much, it was much more Tao or Minseok’s sort of a thing, but he had figured that it wouldn’t be very hard to figure out.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he had, perhaps, been wrong about that.

He’d been trying for hours to try and get in touch with Tao. He and Baekhyun had gone to Kazir, just like they’d been told, but they had promised to keep him and Minseok updated on what was happening. Minseok had, not long after, gone off to Sivalia, leaving Jongdae kind-of-sort-of in charge of things, for the time being.

He still hadn’t heard shit from Tao.

He was getting worried, for Tao and Baekhyun, yes, but also for Minseok. He had promised – and that wasn’t something that he did lightly, ever – that he would be home in three days. A day of travel to Sivalia, a day spent there, and a day of travel on the way back. Jongdae had been counting, and they were getting dangerously close to the end of day three. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, if Minseok wasn’t back by then.

He was shocked out of his thoughts when the orb – formerly clear and flawless – went black. He picked it up quickly, holding it up in front of his face, and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, he heard a voice.

Tao’s voice.

“Let him go. Let him go, don’t hurt him, don’t—”

Tao was silenced by a shrill scream, a scream that made Jongdae’s mouth fall open in shock and fear, eyes flashing yellow. That was Baekhyun, he’d know that scream anywhere, he’d heard it once and he had never wanted to hear it again and _oh_ , there it was again.

“—no, _stop_ , don’t do that to him, don’t hurt _him_ , hurt me instead, hurt me all you want but leave him alone, let him _go_ , please—”

Jongdae squeezed his eyes shut, pressing a hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs. He winced when he heard a noise, it sounded like a sharp slap, palm meeting skin, and Tao went quiet.

“Oh, don’t worry, darling, I’ll hurt you plenty, in time. For now, you sit here, nice and quiet, and maybe I’ll go easy on your little boyfriend, okay?”

Jongdae thought he might throw up when he heard Baekhyun screaming again. This time, in the background, he could hear the faint sound of Tao sobbing, the sounds broken and awful. After a moment, he set the orb down beside him, and buried his face in a pillow, so he could sob.

Minseok had predicted that Tao and Baekhyun would have been in danger. He had predicted that they would have to be careful, that they had to keep their wits about them. What he hadn’t predicted was this. Jongdae had mentioned it, once, after they got the letter from Jiyong, that maybe, just maybe, Tao and Baekhyun would be in real, actual, genuine danger.

And he had been right, it seemed.

And usually, usually if he were right and Minseok was wrong, he would have gloated, he would have been proud of himself, but this time, he was heartbroken by it. He was alone, in Eishta’s palace; his two best friends were being tortured in Kazir, more miles away than Jongdae could fathom; and Minseok was in Sivalia, surrounded by people who had no love for him or anything he had ever done.

And Jongdae would have done anything to get him back.

He didn’t know what to do. He had no way to get to Tao or Baekhyun, and even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to help them. He wasn’t strong enough, and part of him realized that Jiyong and the rest of the Shadow Crown knew it.

“Jungguk?”

The door opened, and Jungguk poked his head in, eyes taking in Jongdae’s tearstained face. He could read the fear and upset and fragility in Jongdae’s eyes, and after a moment, he crossed the room, crawled onto the bed to take Jongdae in his arms. “Hush, little Lord. It’s going to be alright. How can I help?”

“I’m going to Sivalia. Get my horse.”

“Of course. Is there anything else that you need?” He paused, stroking Jongdae’s back gently. “And who is to be left in charge of Eishta, in your absence?”

“What does the law saw?”

“I—the—in the absence of a King or any heirs, it’s the High General.”

“Yeah, well, that’s Zitao, so I don’t think that’s going to work, being as he’s not here—”

Jungguk nodded quickly. “After the High General, it’s the Council of Generals.”

Jongdae looked at him for a moment. “Then inform them. And get my horse,” he said, voice turning hard at the last second. Jungguk pulled away quickly, and left the room, Jongdae at his heels. He made his way downstairs quickly, and out the front doors of the palace.

The moment he stepped outside, he realized that he had left the orb upstairs. Shit. Shit fuck. Oh well. Too late to go back now. Jungguk was approaching with— “Jungguk, I said _my_ horse. Was I not clear enough for you?”

“Sir, all due respect, I figured that since you want to get to Sivalia as quickly as possible, you’d want the fastest possible mount. That would be the King’s horse, as you very well know.”

Jongdae saw the logic in his words. He knew that Jungguk was right, and he had, for a moment, considered the possibility. That didn’t stop his next words. “The next time I tell you to do something, you do it the way that I told you to, or the King hears about it. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Sir. Understood.”

“Now, inform the Generals of their new responsibility, and make sure they understand that if they do anything to harm my country in my absence, I will tear out their intestines, I will impale them on the front gates of the city, and then I will do the very same to their families.” Jungguk nodded quickly. “And if _you_ do anything to harm my country, Jungguk? I’ll destroy you and everyone that you have ever loved. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Then go.”

***

Joonmyun was startled awake by the sound of someone approaching them. He was still tucked under Sehun’s arm, but he shot to his feet, turning towards where the sound was coming from. His eyes glowed violet, the mark on the small of his back itching slightly. A moment passed, then two, then he started forwards, frowning, trying not to let his nerves get to him.

As he turned a corner, he came face to face with Minseok, and very nearly punched him, barely able to hold back his fist. “What are you _doing_ , sneaking around like that?”

“I didn’t know that it was you all, I thought it might have been someone else. I’m sorry.” Minseok’s own eyes were glinting slightly in the darkness. “Are the others—”

“They’re fine.” Joonmyun folded his arms over his chest. “Did Jongin—did he find you?”

“Who?”

“Luhan’s servant. About this tall? Dark-haired? Sticks out like a sore thumb, pops in and out like that?” he snapped his fingers to demonstrate. “I’m going to go with no.”

“No, it doesn’t—Sehun.” He met Sehun’s gaze over Joonmyun’s shoulder, then offered him a tight smile. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea that this was going to happen, if I had, I wouldn’t have left. I’m sorry.” After a moment, Sehun nodded, then came towards them.

“It isn’t your fault. Well. I certainly _hope_ it’s not your fault, but I don’t think it is.” He hesitated for a moment. “Come with me.” He led both of them back towards the others. Luhan looked up quickly when they arrived, disappointment clear on his face when he realized that Jongin wasn’t there. He got to his feet a moment later and walked towards them.

“Your Majesty.”

“Prince Luhan.” Luhan bowed his head slightly, then glanced at Sehun, who didn’t look at him. “I’m so sorry. I’ll help you find the people responsible, I’ll help you set this right. You have my word.”

“Thank you.” Luhan’s voice was rough, and after a few seconds, Sehun put an arm around his shoulders. “Sehun, I’m…” he cut off with a soft, offended noise as a drop of rain hit him right in the face. “I forgot about how much it rains here. Anyways, I’m going to… I’m going to try and find Jongin.”

“Of course. Be safe. Please… please take Yixing with you.”

Luhan nodded once, then turned and walked away from them. He paused briefly to speak to Yixing, and then the two of them walked away.

“Alright, your Majesty, I think we need to talk.”

***

They talked for hours. Sehun wasn’t really sure how long it was; all he knew was that it had been light out when they started, and it was dark when they stopped. Luhan and Yixing had come back a while ago, but neither of them had tried to approach Sehun and Minseok.

It had rained the whole time, but the first strike of lightning hadn’t come until darkness had fallen. Minseok had startled at the thunder that had followed, and then understanding had dawned on him, a strange combination of relief and fear settling onto his face. Sehun hadn’t asked, wasn’t really sure he wanted to know, but he got his answer soon enough.

“Where is he?”

Minseok straightened immediately as Jongdae’s voice cracked through the air. He held still for a moment, then rose to his feet, concern in his eyes. The next thing Sehun knew, Jongdae had thrown himself into Minseok’s arms, gripping his body tightly. “Hey, hey, Jongdae, what’s—why are you _here_ , love?”

“I—I didn’t know what else to do, but I had to do something, Minseok, I—it’s Baek and Tao. They’re… it’s not good. I—I—I’m _sorry_.” Minseok smoothed a hand over his hair, hushing him quietly. “I—you know how I said that they might get hurt?” Minseok nodded slowly, concern tugging on the corners of his mouth. “I was right. They—I heard it, in the orb, they’re being t-tortured, Baekhyun was screaming, and Tao was begging them not to hurt Baek.” He sobbed out the last part, trying to hold Minseok’s gaze. That didn’t stop him from seeing, at the edge of his vision, the pain that twisted Yixing’s face at the mention of Tao. Weird.

“Hey, hey, love, breathe for me, relax—”

“And then there was this _guy_ , and he said, to Tao—he said th-that he was going to hurt Tao plenty, in time, and th-that Tao should s-sit quietly and maybe he wouldn’t hurt Baek as much, and I—I was so scared, I didn’t know what to do and so I—I came to find you because I—I’m _sorry_.”

“Hey, shh, it’s okay.” He stroked a gentle hand over Jongdae’s hair, pulled him back slightly, to look him in the eyes. “My love, it’s okay. You’re okay, you’re going to be just fine. This is all going to be fine.”

Joonmyun snorted. “Oh, yeah, just fucking _peachy_ \--”

He was silenced when Minseok raised a hand, freezing him in place. After a few seconds, the ice released, and Joonmyun glared at Minseok, but didn’t say another word. He walked away after a few moments, and Minseok turned his attention back to Sehun. “I’m sorry, about this.” He gestured to Jongdae. “I’m sorry. But I—now that I know this, it’s personal. Kazir won’t get away with this, you have my word.”

“I—thank you.” Sehun smiled tightly at him, glanced at Kyungsoo. “Thank you for everything.”

“Of course.” 

Jongdae pulled away a moment later. “I—I’m going to go talk to Yixing, okay?” Minseok nodded once, and Jongdae pressed a kiss to his cheek, before he turned away, approaching Yixing slowly. He was waiting for Jongdae, it seemed, and when he got there, he sighed, but patted the ground next to him, and Jongdae sat down, cross-legged. “ _What_ was that look? When I mentioned Tao, what the hell was that look on your face?” Jongdae paused. “Oh. _Oh_. I—Baek and I thought he might have been sleeping with one of you, but I—well, I didn’t really believe it, but you—you and him—you are, aren’t you? You and Tao?”

Yixing looked at the ground, blushing furiously. “Or something.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

After a moment, Yixing sighed. “We aren’t… we… it’s really complicated, Jongdae. We haven’t known each other that long, and I—I told him that I wasn’t going to sleep with him until after we helped Hoseok, but after that happened, we were both exhausted, and then he and Baekhyun had to leave. So, we haven’t… slept together.”

“But you want to? You want to have sex with him?”

“I—yes, of course I do.”

Jongdae examined him with narrow, critical eyes for a few moments, before he spoke, voice soft. “You’re not going to hurt him.” Yixing shook his head once. “It wasn’t a question. You will never do anything to hurt him, because if you do, I will end you. You will never see the light of day again if you hurt him, _ever_.”

“I wouldn’t ever do that to him.”

“Well, I certainly hope so.” After a moment, Jongdae grabbed Yixing by the front of his shirt and yanked him closer. “When he falls for someone, he falls hard. He’ll give you everything that he has, but he wants the same in exchange. If you can’t give him that, then he isn’t the one for you.”

Yixing nodded slowly, seemingly unbothered by anything that Jongdae had said. “You’re a very protective friend.” Jongdae growled. “Jongdae?”

“ _What_?”

“I—tell me what happened to him. I want to know, I want to understand, because I don’t want to hurt him unintentionally. Baekhyun wasn’t going to tell me, but we were interrupted before we could, and I haven’t had the chance to ask Zitao.” Jongdae frowned. “Please.”

“It’s _really_ not my place to tell you that.” A moment passed, then two, then, “He was part of the Iron Crow, as you know. He was born and raised in Eliria, and he joined the Crow very young. And while he was a member,” Jongdae’s breath hitched slightly. “well. He was… um, he was… he had a Commander, it was the guy who led his unit, and he… he took a… let’s say he took a _liking_ to Tao.”

“Oh.”

“Told Tao that if he, um, wanted to go anywhere in the hierarchy of the Crow, then he had to… well, I mean, you can guess. He was… he… Tao’s told me, bits and pieces. He, um… he would,” he wrapped a hand around his neck gently, and Yixing nodded once. “and obviously, he, ah, he touched him, and he… well. He has scars, I don’t know if you’ve seen them.”

“I… these ones?” Yixing gestured to his stomach, and Jongdae nodded. “Yeah. I have.”

“Yeah. His Commander gave him those. All of them.”

Yixing exhaled quietly, the image of the scars now fresh in his mind. He had figured that they were a result of his time as either a Crow or a Raven; he hadn’t imagined the extent to which he’d been right.

“He’s… he’s very sensitive about them. He doesn’t like people seeing them, much less touching them.” Jongdae looked away quickly, biting his lip. He had probably said too much. “You really… you’re really into him, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I—he’s my whole world, and I’ve known him for… what, a week and a half?”

Jongdae eyed him for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Okay, I believe you.” He folded his arms over his chest. “You know, I don’t think Baek and I are the ones you need to be worried about. Tao’s the one who can kill you without a second thought.” Yixing hummed quietly. “But now you know why he came to Eishta. Why he joined the Ravens, when they gave him the chance. He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother, and he deserves the whole world. Don’t you ever fucking hurt him.”

“I won’t. If I do, kill me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did anything to hurt him,” Yixing said, voice quiet.

“Oh, gladly. Although, at that point, I think you’ll already be dead, either because he killed you, Baek did, or you threw yourself off of a tower somewhere.” He snickered softly, then smiled at Yixing. “We’ll get him out of there, you know we will. We’ll get him out safe, you’ll have him back.”

Yixing nodded slowly. “Thank you, Jongdae.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure.” He paused for a moment, then spotted something over Yixing’s head. “Mm, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Sure thing. I’ll be here.”

Jongdae got to his feet, and bounded across the small clearing, towards where Minseok was waiting for him. Yixing chuckled quietly as he watched him fling his arms around Minseok, pulling him into a tight hug.

A moment passed in silence, then Yixing felt something – someone – pressing into his mind, an unfamiliar presence, but it was dark and terrifying enough that Yixing could guess who it was. He was hardly stupid; he had common sense.

 _Oh, a smart one, aren’t you? That’s refreshing._ The voice was quiet, dangerous, and Yixing did everything he could to keep his fear out of his mind. _Poor little god-touched, stranded from the gods, all alone in the world, with no one to understand him. Must be lonely, no?_

Well, that was hardly his business.

Some sort of dark chuckle rumbled through his mind, and then, _you care about them, don’t you? Your little friends?_ The words were followed immediately by the imitation of a loud, shrill scream, the sound of someone sobbing dull in the background. Yixing knew those sobs. _Oh, yes, you do. Especially_ , he paused, humming quietly. _my pretty darling, no? You’re incredibly affectionate, towards him, aren’t you, Yixing_?

Yixing glanced around quickly, then pressed a hand over his mouth, speaking quietly against his palm. “He isn’t yours. He will never be yours. Keep your hands off of him.”

That chuckle turned into a laugh, dark and terrifying and awful. _I think you’re wrong about that, you know. He’s already mine. He has always been mine, and he always will be._

Oh. Oh. Fuck.

_Figured it out, have you? Well done._

“Leave them alone. Keep your fucking hands off of them.”

 _Make me._ The threat was quiet, dangerous. _I’ll be waiting for you. I’d hurry, if I were you; I’d hate for anything bad to happen to your darling little angel_.

***

“I missed you so much.” Jongdae murmured the words against Minseok’s cheekbone, then ducked down to kiss him fully on the mouth. Minseok hummed quietly, arm winding around Jongdae’s waist, holding him against his body. “My wonderful King, I love you so much.” Minseok chuckled quietly, running the fingers of his free hand through Jongdae’s hair. “My darling soul, my beautiful heart.”

Minseok kissed him again, hand coming to cradle Jongdae’s cheek. “I love you. I wouldn’t have left if I could have avoided it. But I’m here now, I’ve got you, and I’m not going to leave you behind again.” He kissed Jongdae once more. “My love, who did you leave in charge of my country?”

Jongdae pulled back slightly, to look Minseok in the eyes. “I—well, I asked Jungguk, and he said that since you weren’t there, and I was leaving, then it should have been Tao, but since he was gone, then it would be the Council of Generals. Was that—is that wrong?”

Minseok hummed quietly. “No, love, that’s perfectly fine. He was perfectly right about that.”

Jongdae shifted slightly in his lap, so he was straddling Minseok’s hips. “I _love_ you. You’re my favorite, my pretty King, I love you so very much.” Minseok chuckled, and kissed Jongdae gently, hands returning to his hair. “Did you like my thunderstorm?”

“I loved your thunderstorm. It was gorgeous, just like you.” He pulled Jongdae down for a gentle kiss, biting at his lower lip gently. “I will say, though, I didn’t realize it was you for a while. Took longer than it should have.” Jongdae cackled, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Minseok’s mouth, before he wrapped them around Minseok’s neck, leaning into him heavily.

“That’s okay. I like subtle.” He rolled his hips gently, and Minseok snickered, kissing him again. “Are Tao and Baekhyun going to be okay?”

“We’ll get them out of there, love. We’ll get them home.”

“You promise?”

Minseok’s eyes softened at the fragility in Jongdae’s eyes, and he smiled sadly at him, stroking his cheekbones gently with his thumbs. “I promise you, my love. We’ll get them home.”

Jongdae nodded slowly, kissed his forehead gently. A moment passed in silence, then Jongdae turned his head slightly, brows furrowing. “I—do you here that?” Minseok looked up quickly, listening intently for a few moments, then nodded slowly. “What—what is that? It sounds like—I don’t know, like… soldiers? Marching? But they’re not particularly organized?”

“I agree with you. That… curious. How strange.” Minseok turned his head, looked over at Sehun. “Your Highness, I think we have visitors on the way.”

“I hear them, your Majesty.” Sehun got to his feet, held out a hand to Luhan, who took it, and allowed Sehun to pull him to his feet. “As adorable as the two of you are, you’re hardly presentable.” Minseok smirked, but nodded his agreement, and stood, taking Jongdae with him. A few moments passed, then Joonmyun joined them, still trying to piece together what exactly it was they were hearing. “They—Luhan, they sound—”

“Elirian, I agree.” Luhan looked quickly towards Yixing, then sighed. Yixing, it seemed, had passed out on the ground, whole body stretched out. “Ah. I—that might be something to deal with.”

Before any of them could move, however, the visitors entered their line of sight.

***

Joonmyun watched Luhan sigh in relief when Kris came into view, and he closed the distance quickly, throwing his arms around his brother. Kris wrapped an arm around his shoulders, the surprise in his eyes barely concealed as he looked at Sehun. “I’m sorry that we’re late. I came as quickly as I could.”

Sehun shook his head once. “You—we weren’t expecting you. You’re perfectly fine.” He looked past Kris’ head, towards the scattered troops that followed him. There weren’t as many as he had expected, but the numbers were on the larger side. “Thank you for coming.”

“It’s my absolute pleasure.” Kris released Luhan a moment later, motioned an individual forward. The man came to stand at his shoulder, head bowed, and Kris spoke softly to him, before he looked at Sehun again. “I brought who I could. We had to leave most of the army in Eliria, you understand, but we’re here to help. We’re at your disposal.”

“You left _Mother_ alone?”

“Luhan, she’s more than capable of taking care of her country, as you know. She’s done it for years, on top of managing the three of us—” he cut off when he spotted Yixing’s body, fury flashing through his eyes. They glinted a pale gray for a moment. “What happened to my fucking _brother_?”

“He’s fine. He just… you know how he is.”

“I—that’s _shit_ and you know it, he’s never—”

Yixing startled awake at that very moment, confusion in his eyes, pupils ringed with a thin line of green. “I—who’s yelling—what the—Kris, what are you _doing_ here?”

Kris cleared his throat, exhaling quietly. “It’s a long story, Yixing, I’ll catch you up later. Regardless, we heard about the threats that Kazir made, towards you, and I brought who I could to help. I’m glad that I did. Clearly, no one expected this attack.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “And I—your Majesty.” He bowed his head to Minseok, before he looked at Sehun again. “What exactly is the situation?”

Minseok wrapped an arm around Jongdae’s waist, pulling him against his side. “The Crown of Kazir attacked Sivalia, as you can see. They have also taken two of my most trusted men captive and are in the process of torturing them. And if I’m correct, then they’ve also taken Sehun’s servant, Chanyeol, captive. They’re at war, they jumped into a war with no warning whatsoever.” Jongdae pressed his face against Minseok’s shoulder. “I’ll kill the Shadow King for what he’s done.”

“I don’t blame you for that.”

“If I may interject, can someone _please_ explain to me why we’ve agreed to help the King of Eishta?” Sehun sighed quietly, but before he could stop Joonmyun, he continued. “I think that we need to understand that the reason we’re in this position because we trust a little bit too much. We trusted Chanyeol; he ran off to Eishta. We trusted Kyungsoo; turns out he’s been spilling secrets to the Shadow King. We trusted—”

“Do you _ever_ shut the _fuck_ up?” Joonmyun snapped his mouth shut, staring at Kris with wide eyes. He blinked slowly but didn’t say a word. “Can you manage keeping your mouth shut while the _adults_ are talking?” A moment passed in silence, then Joonmyun nodded once. “Well, thank the gods.” He motioned with his fingers, and Sehun, Luhan, and Minseok followed him a few feet away.

Joonmyun watched them go with wide eyes, unblinking. After a few seconds, Kyungsoo came to stand beside him, gazing at the others. “You know, your Highness,” he paused, a slow smile creeping across his face, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you willingly shut up when someone told you to. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you so shocked.”

“Kyungsoo?”

“Your Highness.”

“Shut the _fuck_ up.”

Kyungsoo chuckled quietly, but nodded, then walked away, leaving Joonmyun alone.

 _Fuck_ , he was right. Joonmyun didn’t ever just _shut up_ , not for his parents, not for Sehun, not for _anyone_. He had never just shut his mouth when someone told him to, never in his life.

Until today. Until this tall, broad, Elirian Prince had come walking into their camp, and demanded that Joonmyun keep his mouth shut, _while the adults were talking_. The fuck did that even mean, the _adults_?

With a sigh, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the _adults_ to their conversation.

***

When Kris found Joonmyun, the Prince was standing on what had once been the outer wall of the city, gazing out over the city, forearms braced on the barrier that – ideally – would have stopped a fall. He gave no indication that he heard Kris approach, but he didn’t even blink when Kris came to stand beside him, mirroring his position.

“I take it you have a plan.”

Kris shook his head once. “No. We don’t know enough to have a plan. Right now, the best we’ve got is ‘get in, get the others, get out, as quickly as possible, and without being seen.’ It’s stupid, and downright impossible. It’s never going to work.” Joonmyun exhaled, nostrils flaring slightly as a retort coiled in his throat. “If you have any ideas, I’m excited to hear them.”

Oh, he made it too easy.

“Funny, I would have thought you only wanted to hear what the _adults_ had to say.”

Kris didn’t react, not in the way Joonmyun had expected. He merely sighed quietly, then turned slightly, to look at Joonmyun. “How is it that no one has knocked you on your ass yet?”

“Trust me, your brother tried.”

Kris snorted quietly, then turned back towards the city. “I offended you, then, when I said that. When I told you to keep quiet while the adults were talking.” Joonmyun didn’t respond, jaw clenching furiously. For the first time in a very long time, he had no idea where this was headed, he had no idea how to respond. “Lay it on me, then.”

“What?”

“Tell me just how awful it was of me to say that. Tell me how _upset_ you are, how disrespectful I was, because you’re the Prince of Sivalia, and I shouldn’t talk to you that way. I know you’re angry, so go ahead, unleash your fury on me.”

Joonmyun looked at him for a few moments, then huffed a breath through his nose, turned away. “You’re atrociously stupid, has anyone ever told you that?”

“And you’re a spoiled brat, but here I am, talking to you.” Kris straightened, then turned away. “I’ll leave you to sulk, then.” He started to leave, but before he could get very far, Joonmyun planted a foot in the small of his back and shoved him forward. He stumbled, landed on his knees, then turned to look at Joonmyun, who was glaring down at him, furious.

“I am not a _brat_ and I do not _sulk_.” He hissed out the words, spitting them like venom at Kris, who didn’t so much as flinch. “You don’t know _shit_ about me. Stop pretending that you do.”

A moment passed, then Kris got to his feet, not looking away from Joonmyun, gaze perfectly neutral. A beat of silence, then two, and then Kris walked towards him, until Joonmyun was trapped between him and the barrier. “You couldn’t handle the thought of your perfect bodyguard being a traitor, so you blamed Jongin for that assassin getting through to you. You can’t handle the thought of your family missing the obvious signs, so you blame _trusting people_ for this war. You can’t handle the thought of not being involved, so you run your fucking mouth, for attention. You can’t stand the idea of ever having to bow to any sort of authority. You have no self-control. And whenever you don’t get what you want, you _sulk_ , because you want people to know that you’re unhappy, so that they pity you. You are a spoiled, pampered _brat_.”

Joonmyun stood still for a few moments, chest heaving as he breathed, trying to comprehend what exactly he was seeing in Kris’ eyes, and what he was feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Quickly, before he knew he was doing it, he grabbed Kris by the back of the neck, rising up on his toes, the intent in his eyes clear, but before he could get there, Kris had a hand on his chest. He shoved him back, against the barrier, pinning him in place. Fuck, he was strong.

“No patience, not even this once, Joonmyun? How sad.”

Joonmyun’s free hand came up to grab Kris’ wrist, trying to push his arm aside, but Kris was a lot stronger than he was, and after a few moments, he relented, gaze furious. Kris cocked an eyebrow, then smirked, fingers curling into a fist in Joonmyun’s shirt. “Oh, so you do have some semblance of self-control. And here I was, thinking you were—”

“Do _you_ ever shut the fuck up?”

Before Joonmyun knew what was happening, Kris was close, too close, his mouth hovering over Joonmyun’s, a hair away from actually touching. When he spoke, his breath whispered across Joonmyun’s lips, quiet and deadly and, _fuck_ , Joonmyun wanted that mouth on his. “Ah, what a pity. I was even going to give you what you wanted.”

“I—what? No—” Joonmyun cut off when Kris pulled away from him, very quickly going from too close to too far. It was going to give Joonmyun whiplash. “Come _back_ here.”

Kris cocked his head to the side in thought, considering Joonmyun with careful eyes. “Are you going to continue being a brat?”

“No.”

“Are you going to be polite?”

“Yes.”

After a few seconds, Kris closed the gap between them, pressing up against Joonmyun again, who made a soft noise in his throat, when Kris’ hand settled on the curve of his jaw, thumb pressing against his chin. Joonmyun whined softly, trying to press forward to get Kris’ mouth on his, but Kris held him back, effortless. “Ask me.”

“But—”

“Ask me. Show me that you can be patient enough for that.”

“But—”

“Joonmyun.” His breath locked in his throat, as Kris held his gaze. His grip tightened slightly, and Joonmyun swallowed hard, eyes wide. “Did we not just finish discussing how polite you were going to be?”

“I—yeah, yes, but—”

“Well, then, are you going to be polite? Are you going to ask me?” Joonmyun’s brow furrowed and he pouted, but after a few seconds, he nodded slowly, biting back a whine. “Prove it.”

“I—” Fury curled in Joonmyun’s stomach, vibrating through every inch of his body. “I—”

“Come on, princess, it’s not that hard, is it?”

Joonmyun gritted his teeth, glaring petulantly up at Kris. “Please, Kris, please will you just fucking kiss me?”

Kris hummed softly, then leaned forward, to press the briefest, softest kiss to the corner of Joonmyun’s mouth. “Good enough for you?” Joonmyun shook his head quickly, fingers curling in Kris’ shirt, tugging him forward. “You’re such a _brat_.”

“And you’re an _asshole_ , just _kiss_ me and do it _properly_ this time.” He yanked on Kris’ shirt, biting back a whine as he gazed up at Kris.

“You chafe under any and all authority, don’t you?” Joonmyun growled at him, still trying to get his mouth on Kris. “Pretty princess doesn’t like following directions.” He ran his free hand through Joonmyun’s hair. “Spoiled baby Prince, aren’t you?”

“Stop calling me a princess—”

“ _Make_ me, Joonmyun.”

A moment passed, then Joonmyun threw himself forward, mouth sealing over Kris’. Kris chuckled quietly against his mouth, hand still on Joonmyun’s jaw, keeping a firm grip on his chin, his other hand gripping Joonmyun’s waist. When he pulled back to breathe, Kris was smiling, his eyes glimmering softly. “Brat.”

“Fuck you—”

“Yeah, you’d like that. You’d like that a whole lot, wouldn’t you, princess?” Joonmyun hissed quietly, shoving at his chest, but Kris held him in place. “What’s wrong, princess, I thought you wanted me to kiss you?”

“Yeah, I _did_ , I didn’t want you to make fucking _fun_ of me, you’re being so mean—” He cut off when Kris kissed him again, moaning quietly into Kris’ mouth. He wound his arms around Kris’ neck, holding him close.

“Happy, now?”

“Are you done making fun of me?”

Kris chuckled quietly, one eyebrow quirking as he kissed Joonmyun one more time. “I don’t think I’ll ever be done making fun of you. You make it too easy.” Joonmyun bared his teeth, and Kris laughed again, squeezing Joonmyun’s chin gently, before he released him. “Too easy, princess. Far too easy.” Joonmyun growled softly, pulling Kris back against him, mouth latching onto his jaw. “You aren’t cut out to stay in Sehun’s shadow, are you, princess?”

“Stop _calling_ me that—”

Kris snickered, as Joonmyun kissed down his neck. “No. Answer the question.”

“I’ll answer you, when you agree to stop calling me _princess_.”

Kris smiled, hand coming to rest on Joonmyun’s jaw again. He pulled him up, to press a kiss to his mouth, before he spoke. “Alright. Now, answer me.”

“I hate it. I hate that I’m always going to be less than— _oh_.” He sighed softly when Kris’ mouth latched onto the skin beneath his ear, kissing gently down his neck and onto his shoulder. “I’m a-always going to be less than him, no one gives a flying _fuck_ about me, it’s always going to be Sehun, and I _h-hate_ it—”

A moment passed in silence, then Kris kissed Joonmyun once more, brief and chaste. “I figured as much.” He patted Joonmyun’s cheek, then stepped away, extracting himself from Joonmyun’s grip. “We should be getting back to the others, before we’re missed.”

“They’re all sleeping, they won’t _care_ if we’re—”

“Let me rephrase: we’re going back to the others. Now.” A moment passed in silence between them, then Kris brushed past him, started towards the pile of rubble that led up to the top of the wall. Joonmyun pouted after him, but after a few moments, he followed, picking his way down the rocks. Kris stopped at the bottom to watch him descend.

Not far from the bottom, Joonmyun stumbled, then fell. He would have hit the ground, if Kris hadn’t stepped forward, caught him around the waist, and pulled him upright. “There you go, princess, on your feet—”

“I said don’t fucking call me _princess_.”

Kris chuckled quietly, then kissed him, tilting his head back slightly. “Brat. Let’s go.”

***

Luhan woke with a start. In the back of his mind, he could feel something twisting, angry, foreign. He blinked quickly, looking around, then reached over to shake Sehun awake. “Something’s wrong. Get up.” Sehun sat up quickly, brows furrowing. After a moment, he got to his feet, pulling Luhan with him. “Where— _shit_.” He very nearly fell over, when he saw the pair of people on the other side of the clearing.

Minseok blinked his eyes open slowly, then growled, pushing Jongdae behind him and getting to his feet in the same movement. His eyes glowed silver, and Luhan could see the marks on his hands glinting dimly in the early morning light. “Let him _go_.”

“No, no, I don’t think I’m going to do that.”

“Hoseok, leave him alone. He has nothing to do with this—”

The man – Hoseok – chuckled darkly, then slung an arm around the other man’s shoulders, holding him against his side. “Wrong.” He looked around the clearing slowly, eyes touching on everyone, before they settled back on Minseok. “He loves you. And when I told him that you were in trouble, he didn’t fucking _hesitate_ to come and find you. And I think,” he paused, turned his head to look at the man with him. “that you want him safe just as much as he wants you safe.”

Minseok’s breath was locked in his throat as he gazed at Hoseok. Jongdae was standing behind him, hand hovering at the small of his back. A few moments passed, then Yixing spoke, his voice quiet. “Why are you here, Hoseok?”

Hoseok smiled brightly as he turned to look at Yixing, pulling Jungguk with him. “Oh, _hey_ , Yixing.” He started towards him, ignoring the warning looks that Luhan and Kris sent his way. “I didn’t get to thank you, you know, for saving me. So, thank you,” he paused, biting back a laugh, “for making the Shadow Crown’s job so much easier than it was originally. You saved them a few steps.”

Luhan heard Joonmyun’s sharp inhale, and so did Hoseok. He glanced at Joonmyun for a moment, before he looked Yixing in the eyes again. “Do you regret it?”

“What, bringing you back from the brink of death?” Hoseok hummed softly, nodding slowly. “No.” That seemed to surprise Hoseok, one eyebrow raising. “You want to know why?”

“I’d love to.” He was standing in front of Yixing, now, mere inches away from him.

A moment passed, then Yixing punched Hoseok in the face. Luhan’s mouth fell open, and he grabbed Sehun’s arm, as Hoseok reeled backwards, before he straightened. “It means that I get to do that.” 

And maybe, just maybe, there had been a few other motives behind that punch. Maybe, just maybe, the image of Tao’s body, all tanned and stretched out on a bed, had reared in his head as soon as he’d seen Hoseok’s face, and maybe, just fucking maybe, that had had something to do with the punch. Hoseok snickered as he straightened, holding Jungguk closer. “Brave.”

“Mm. Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

Hoseok smiled, vicious and angry. “The Shadow Crown would like to extend an invitation to the lot of you.” He glanced at Minseok, then Sehun, then Kris. “They’d like to give you an opportunity to negotiate the terms of your surrender, if you’ll take it. And if _not_ , then we’ll gladly finish this war our way, although, I can guarantee that you won’t like that solution very much. Right, Jungguk?”

Jungguk blinked quickly, and when he spoke, his voice shook with fear. “I—yeah. R-right. Yes.”

Hoseok chuckled quietly, squeezing Jungguk’s shoulders gently, before he looked at Yixing again. “Three days, just like you gave me. If you aren’t in Kazir after three days, the war begins again, and it starts with Jungguk. We clear?”

Yixing exhaled quietly, then nodded once. “Crystal clear.”

Hoseok smiled. “I’m _glad_.” A moment passed in silence, then he vanished, taking Jungguk with him.

Minseok let out a string of expletives, and he released a shot of ice through the air, before he turned towards Jongdae, who slipped an arm around his waist, hugging him against his body. Yixing sighed, leaned back against the wall behind him, running his fingers through his hair.

“This is fucking ridiculous, we can’t just—they want us to _negotiate our surrender_ , that’s—” Joonmyun cut off after a moment, looked down at the ground. “Pompous dicks.”

Kris cleared his throat. “Pompous dicks who are holding one of your people, and three of Minseok’s captive. Pompous dicks who could destroy your country in a blink of an eye. We really have no choice.”

“So, then, what are we supposed to _do_?” Joonmyun hissed the words at Kris, folding his arms over his chest. Kris didn’t respond, merely looked at Minseok, who spoke a moment later.

“I’m going to Kazir. You’re welcome to join me, if you’d like.” He placed a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder. “Sehun, as the… well, I suppose that makes you the King now, you should probably go. Yours was the country that was attacked.”

Sehun nodded his agreement, and Luhan leaned his head against his shoulder. “I’m going, too. And Kris, I’m assuming.” Kris nodded slowly, turned back towards the scattered members of the Elirian Army. “I think smaller numbers might be best.”

“I agree.” Minseok nodded once, then turned to Jongdae, who glared at him.

“I’m _not_ staying behind. You aren’t leaving me behind, not again.” Minseok shot him a look. “You _promised_.”

“That was before I knew about Jungguk. There are too many variables, now. I can’t add you into the mix.” Minseok kissed his forehead gently. “I can’t put you in danger like that. You’re staying behind.” Jongdae opened his mouth, and Minseok placed a hand over it. “Don’t argue.”

Jongdae pouted, but nodded once, and Minseok pulled his hand away. Sehun cleared his throat, awkward, before he spoke. “So, Kris, Luhan, Minseok, and me?”

“I’m going with you,” Yixing said quietly, as he came to stand beside Joonmyun. Kris sighed, unhappy with the idea, but didn’t argue; it wouldn’t have been his place to. “And that leaves… Jongdae, Kyungsoo, Joonmyun, and… them.” He waved his hand in the direction of Eliria’s soldiers.

“Yes.” Luhan murmured, brows slightly furrowed. “We can’t bring them with us, the Shadow Crown would never let us near them if we brought soldiers.”

“And are we going _now_?”

Yixing and Luhan exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Luhan nodded once, as he turned towards Kris. “The faster we move, the faster we get this over with. You know that.” Kris’ eyes narrowed slightly, but he relented. “We… soon. Within the hour.”

***

“You’ll take care of yourself?”

“I will.”

Jongdae’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he placed his hands on Minseok’s jaw, holding him in place. “You promise? Promise that you’ll come back to me?” Minseok nodded once, and Jongdae’s eyes flashed yellow for a moment. “ _Say_ it. Tell me.”

“You have my word, my love. I’ll take care of myself, and I’ll come back to you, alive. You won’t lose me, not today, not ever. I promise.” He hugged Jongdae against his chest.

“I love you.”

“And I love you. You’re my most precious love, I’ll never let you go. You’ll have me for the rest of your life, you’ll have me in death, never forget that.” Jongdae nodded, leaning closer to bury his face in Minseok’s neck, arms tight around his waist. “Jongdae?”

“Yeah?”

Minseok stroked his fingers over Jongdae’s lower back, before his fingers found the mark, brushing over it gently, through his shirt. “No tears. Don’t cry.” Jongdae nodded quickly, biting back a sniffle. “Shh, don’t worry about me. Everything is going to be fine. I’ll come back to you, alive and well, and then we’ll go home, with Baek and Tao. Okay?”

“I—yeah. Okay.” Jongdae mumbled the words against Minseok’s neck, then turned his head slightly, so he could speak into Minseok’s ear softly. “I—Tao probably doesn’t want me to tell you this, but he and—he and Yixing are—are something. I don’t really know what. But Yixing loves him, and I think Tao loves him back, and that’s why Yixing’s going, because he wants to make sure that Tao is safe. That’s why Tao was weird, the other day.”

Minseok chuckled quietly, then kissed the top of Jongdae’s head. “I know.”

“You— _what_?”

“After Yixing saved Hoseok? You should have seen the way he looked at Tao. I imagine,” he paused, fingers toying with the hairs at the back of Jongdae’s neck, “that he looks at Tao the way I look at you.” Jongdae blushed furiously, biting back a noise when Minseok kissed him gently. “I’ll love you forever, don’t you ever forget that. My heart is yours.”

“And they beat together, as one.” Minseok nodded once, as Jongdae pulled him in for another kiss. “My darling King.” His mouth drifted to Minseok’s neck. “I told Jungguk to tell the Generals,” he paused, mouthing at Minseok’s throat gently. “that if they did anything to harm Eishta in our absence, I would tear out their intestines and impale them on the city gates, and that the same fate would fall upon their families.”

Minseok laughed softly, stroking Jongdae’s hair gently. “That’s my darling, ruthless husband. I do adore you, you know.” Jongdae snickered quietly. “And they thought it was _me_ they had to be afraid of.” He huffed out a laugh. “They’ll learn, I suppose. One day.”

Jongdae kissed him one more time, then glanced upwards, at the sun. “You have to go.” He touched his hands to Minseok’s cheeks, smiling. “Come back to me.”

“I always do.”

“Make them pay.”

“I will.”

***

“You realize that, since we’re all leaving, you’re in charge, yes?” Joonmyun nodded once, jaw clenched as he stared at Sehun. “And you’re going to make sure that they’re safe?”

“ _Yes_ , Sehun. I’ll take care of Minseok’s lover, and our Crown Commander, and Eliria’s Army. I’ll keep Sivalia safe. You don’t have to worry about it.” Sehun sighed, rolling his eyes, but didn’t comment. “You keep yourself safe.”

Sehun’s eyes softened slightly. “Joonmyun, are you _worried_ about me?”

“No.”

“It certainly sounds like you are.”

“I’m _not_. I just don’t want to deal with Luhan if you die.”

Sehun laughed quietly, then put a hand on Joonmyun’s shoulder. “Thank you.” Joonmyun nodded once, avoiding his gaze. “No really, Joonmyun. Thank you, for everything.” Joonmyun snorted that time, and Sehun made a disapproving noise in his throat. “I will come back, you know. I’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine. We’ll get this sorted out. Things will be back to normal in no time; you’ll be back to having your whores come visit you at night – don’t think I don’t know about them. Don’t worry.” He patted Joonmyun on the shoulder, then turned away.

As he walked away, Joonmyun watched in silence, a strange combination of emotions curling in his stomach. He didn’t know what to call any of them. A few moments passed in silence, then he heard someone behind him clear his throat. He turned, and found Kris staring at him, an unreadable look in his eyes.

If there was one thing that Joonmyun wasn’t good at, it was _feelings_. Ever since he’d been a kid, he’d been exceptional at pushing away people who cared about him, because he wasn’t willing to put his own well-being at risk for the sake of caring back. He had never been in love, he had never understood what people like Sehun or Jongdae meant when they called their partner their _other half_ or their _entire world_. He didn’t know the word for what he felt when he looked at this stupid, arrogant asshole of a Prince.

He had never feared for the life of another person. He had never _worried_ about whether or not someone was going to come back.

“Are you going to continue staring at me, or are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?” Joonmyun was snapped out of his thoughts when Kris spoke, his voice quiet. A beat too late, Joonmyun’s eyes narrowed, jaw clenching slightly.

“Funny, I thought you preferred me _quiet_.”

Kris hummed softly, examining Joonmyun with neutral eyes. Joonmyun hated that, the way that he was also so _unaffected_ by the things that Joonmyun said to him. He wanted to break that composure. He had seen a hint of what that looked like, the first time they’d met; he wanted to see it when he really got under Kris’ skin. When Kris spoke, Joonmyun’s gaze snapped to his eyes again, trying to focus on the words he was saying.

“I prefer you patient and polite. I never said anything about quiet.” Oh. Oh. _Oh_ , only an idiot could have missed the innuendo there, the thin edge of lust buried under Kris’ carefully composed words. He wanted, too, he wanted just as badly as Joonmyun did. That did funny things to Joonmyun’s stomach. “If you actually listened to me, you might remember that.”

“I did listen.” Fuck. Fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

Kris raised an eyebrow, gaze critical. “Oh, did you? I wouldn’t have guessed, based on your behavior earlier.” There was a hard edge to his tone, like a parent might take with a particularly unruly child. “You are, you know. _Such_ a brat.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“No.” Kris straightened, rolling his shoulders back slightly. That small movement was enough to remind Joonmyun of just how much taller than him Kris was, and he _hated_ it. “I’ll continue to call you a brat until you prove that you aren’t one.

A moment passed, then two, then Joonmyun closed the distance between them. He placed his hands on Kris’ chest, fingers curling in his shirt, and then he looked up at him, jaw set. When he spoke, he was surprised that his voice didn’t shake. “Kiss me. And do it properly.”

Kris smiled at him for a moment, then leaned down, to hiss quietly in his ear. “You’re forgetting the magic word, princess.”

Asshole. Fucking _dick_. What did he think Joonmyun was, a five-year-old? Joonmyun growled at him, and Kris chuckled softly, mouth touching the shell of Joonmyun’s ear. “I—” Joonmyun cut off with a noise when Kris’ hands came to rest on his hips, holding him against Kris’ body. Gentle, so gentle. “Please. Please kiss me, properly.”

“There, see, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Joonmyun opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Kris’ mouth had captured his, and he was _gone_. He wasn’t sure what to call the noise that escaped his throat, but he would be embarrassed by it later, he was sure. His hands fisted in Kris’ shirt, dragging him impossibly closer, and _fuck_ , Joonmyun had kissed a lot of people, but he’d never _been kissed_ , not like this, not by someone who wanted him just as badly as he wanted them, not by someone who could make heat coil in his stomach like this.

When Kris pulled back, he was smirking, and Joonmyun was panting softly, gazing up at him with wide eyes. He opened his mouth to say something – to demand _more_ \- but Kris hushed him, ducked down to place one more soft, chaste, gentle, _sweet_ kiss on his lower lip, before he spoke. “So, you can be polite.” Joonmyun pouted – he had never, not once in his life, _pouted_ , what was wrong with him – and Kris chuckled. “Correction: you can be polite, when you’re properly motivated.”

Before Joonmyun knew what was happening, he was pinned to a wall, one of Kris’ hands in his hair, the other still on his hip, one thigh slotted between Joonmyun’s, pressing- _oh_.

“So, I suppose that means that the only thing that I need to do now,” Kris paused, his grip in Joonmyun’s hair tightening slightly, pinning his head in place, as he leaned down, mouth hovering over Joonmyun’s, “is figure out how to properly motivate you.”

“Kris—fuck, _please_ , I—”

Kris hushed him quietly. “Here’s a start: I have to leave soon. You know that.”

Joonmyun whined, his grip tightening. “I don’t—I want you _now_.”

Kris snickered, the hand on Joonmyun’s waist moving to his chin. “I know, princess. Consider this your first lesson in _patience_.” Joonmyun huffed softly, and Kris’ smile widened. “Oh, come now, don’t be dramatic. I’m sure you can handle it.”

Joonmyun’s eyes flashed, and he shoved gently at Kris’ chest. “You can’t just—”

“Oh, princess, I think you’ll find that I most certainly can, and I absolutely intend to do just that. I have to leave soon, as you very well know, and while I’m gone, you’re going to make sure things here stay under control. Most importantly, while I’m gone, you’re going to wait patiently for me to come back.” Joonmyun was pouting at him again, and Kris, without thinking about it, took Joonmyun’s lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. “None of that.”

“You’re so—Kris, _please_ , I—”

“Ah, see, you’re already learning.” He paused. “I have to leave in, mm, ten minutes, now.”

Kris could pinpoint the exact moment that the idea sprang into Joonmyun’s head. His gaze went from petulant to excited, and after a moment, Kris released his lower lip. “Five minutes, give me five minutes, let me show you what I can do in five minutes.” His brow furrowed. “Please?”

Kris smiled tightly, then stepped back, releasing Joonmyun. Joonmyun waited with bated breath, and when Kris nodded, he smiled, and dropped to his knees.

***

They had been gone for all of an hour before Jongdae’s resolve snapped. He stood quickly, eyes flickering yellow for a split second. “It’s a trap.” He looked at Kyungsoo for a moment, then at Joonmyun, neither of whom had reacted to his words. “Oh, come on. You have to know that it’s a trick. This is the _Shadow Crown_ we’re talking about, they don’t just _invite people_ to Kazir without strings attached.”

“The _strings_ , Jongdae, are the surrender that they’ve been summoned to negotiate. They know that our position here is hopeless—”

“Maybe _here_ it is, but if we go to Kazir and—”

“I’m not even going to start on how many different ways that that violates procedure—”

“Oh, and starting a war completely unprovoked _doesn’t_? Kyungsoo, they broke the rules first, we have every right to fight back just as dirty.” Kyungsoo frowned but allowed Jongdae to continue. “And if there’s one thing that I _know_ I’m good at, it’s fighting dirty. We can _help_ them.”

Kyungsoo glanced at Joonmyun, then looked Jongdae in the eyes again. “What, so that we all die in Kazir, instead of surrendering and surviving?”

“You have spent the last three years fighting a war of attrition against Eishta, and now you want to talk about _not fighting back_? That’s what Sivalia _does_! You fight back, even when the position is completely hopeless! That’s what you _have to do_ , when you’re surrounded by a war machine on one side and the hell-hole that is Eliria on the other! You can’t just give up _now_ , they attacked your country, without warning! You have every right to fight back—”

“Are we going to ignore the part where your King,” Joonmyun gestured to Jongdae,” and their Crown Prince,” he motioned to the soldiers, “and _my_ King all ordered us to stay here and not, under any circumstances, try to follow them?” Joonmyun fixed him with a glare. “And who are you to lecture us on what our country does or doesn’t do? You’re hardly a military expert; you’re little more than—”

“I’m the King of Eishta, just as much as Minseok is!”

Jongdae’s voice snapped through the air angrily, followed by silence. His chest was heaving, his eyes glowing a vibrant yellow, electricity sparking around his fingertips as he glared at Joonmyun. “I know that _you_ don’t understand these things, but that is my _husband_ who ran off to negotiate our country’s surrender. And I am not going to let him do that. Not when I know that this is a Kaziri ploy, to summon the leaders of all of our nations to one place, to slaughter them and seize control.”

“If that’s the case, then surely you understand that he told you to remain behind so that Eishta would still have a King, if he died?”

Jongdae turned his glare on Kyungsoo. “If he dies, Eishta is crippled. If Minseok is killed, my country falls. There is no way around that. The only way that my country survives is if he does. And I am not going to sit back and let him die while I can do anything to stop it.”

He turned on his heel, made it halfway out of the clearing before Kyungsoo caught up to him, grabbing his forearm. “Fine. But you’re not going alone. I’m going with you.”

Jongdae nodded once, his jaw clenching furiously. He shot a glance back at Joonmyun, who was watching with neutral eyes as the few Elirian soldiers that remained made their way towards Kyungsoo. Many had been sent back to Eliria, but a select few had stayed.

“Let’s go, then.”

“What’s your plan, Jongdae?”

Jongdae looked at him, fury in his eyes. “Get in. Kill whoever I have to. Get Minseok. Get out. Simple enough for you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this turned out a lot longer than I had intended, but here it is.


	16. Chapter 16

Yixing had been to Kazir once before, and he had been terrified. For as much as the land of the nation mimicked that of Eishta, Kazir had a unique ability to send fear shooting through his blood, lighting every nerve on fire, in the worst way possible. The terror he had felt the first time, though, was nothing compared to what was curling in his stomach now, raw and painful and sharper than any sword that Yixing had ever encountered. He knew why; this time, he feared not only for his life, but also the lives of his brothers, his friends, his country, and – most importantly – Zitao.

The Shadow King and his son had many things in common, but the one that Yixing found the most unsettling was their razor-thin patience. They could go from being perfectly cordial to absolutely murderous in the time it took to blink; Yixing had seen it in person, and he never wanted to be on the receiving end of it.

The Palace of Kazir was just as imposing as the country itself, a tall, black spire that cast a shadow over the land on one of Kazir’s rare sunny days. They had made it through the city unbothered, which worried Yixing. It meant that people knew they were here, and that they were scared of going anywhere near them. The King, then, had made it clear that he wanted them to arrive safely. That was unusual, and Yixing didn’t like it in the slightest.

He could feel the fear that was coiling in his stomach radiating from Minseok, beside him. If anyone had a right to be worried, it was Minseok. Too many of his people were at risk in there, and the Shadow Crown knew it.

Yixing had expected that the King would send someone to greet them at the front of the palace, but he could never, in any lifetime, have predicted who it would have been. He had assumed one of the many nobles that was hopelessly devoted to the Crown. He had not been prepared to see Jiyong waiting for them, a man – ah, that would be his husband, then – beside him.

“You made it to us safely. I am so glad.” Jiyong’s gaze swept over them, falling first on Sehun and Luhan, then drifting to Minseok, then Kris, before finally locking on Yixing. His eyebrow twitched, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smirk. “Allow me to welcome you to Kazir. We are so happy that you decided to join us.”

He _looked_ like his father, more than he had when Yixing had last seen him. That said, he had last seen Jiyong… oh, it had been long ago, before he had been married, not long after Yixing had left the Crown of Eliria to serve the gods.

“Seunghyun, if you would be so kind as to inform my father that his guests have arrived?” Seunghyun bowed his head, then slipped away through the doors, leaving Jiyong alone at the top of the steps. Yixing watched Jiyong quietly for a few seconds, noting the use of _his guests_ , before he stepped forward, slipping between Sehun and Luhan. “Ah, Yixing.” He chuckled quietly, then descended the stairs towards him. “I am surprised to see you here.”

“And may I inquire as to why that is, your Highness?”

Jiyong hummed softly. “I suppose you may.” A beat of silence, then he smiled fully. “Simply? We both know that you do not represent Eliria, not anymore. If we want to get technical, and I am sure that you do, I am not at war with _you_.” Yixing held his gaze as Jiyong came to stand in front of him. “So, may _I_ inquire as to what brings you here?”

Yixing exhaled slowly, a humorless smile curving across his mouth. “I have a… vested interest in the outcome of these negotiations. Consider it personal.” Jiyong hummed quietly, tapping his lower lip with one finger for a few seconds. “Or consider it a family matter. Both of my brothers are here; I’d quite like to make sure they make it out safely.”

Jiyong didn’t believe him for a second, and Yixing knew it, but – blessedly – Jiyong held his tongue. “That loyalty is going to serve you well, Yixing.” Yixing bowed his head, and Jiyong chuckled, before he turned on his heel. “Come along, then. I will show you to your quarters.”

Ah, it was to be _that_ sort of a negotiation, then. Yixing shouldn’t have been surprised; that was, generally, how the Crown of Kazir operated. They liked their guests comfortable, at ease; it made it easy to get them to agree to terms that weren’t necessarily favorable. Yixing followed without a word, and after a moment, he heard the others do the same, Sehun and Luhan right on his heels. He extended his hand backwards, slightly, just enough that Luhan could brush his fingers against his palm, their minds melding together for two seconds before splitting.

For never having been here, Luhan knew exactly what was going on. They were walking into a snake pit, and Luhan – and everyone behind him – knew it.

That was good. It would save them a lot of trouble, in the long run, if everyone was on the same page from the very beginning. As Jiyong led them through the palace, Yixing made sure to make note of exactly which hallway they followed, but it wasn’t terribly hard. He wasn’t trying to trap them here physically; their fear would do that well enough, if it came down to it.

The quarters that Jiyong brought them to were nice. That worried Yixing; he knew Kazir’s tricks, and he knew, probably better than the others, what this one meant. As Jiyong ushered them all in, he spoke, voice quiet.

“Someone will be by to collect you for dinner, later. I look forward to speaking with you.” He closed the door behind him without another word, and Yixing, listening for it, was the only one to hear first the soft click of a lock, followed by the quiet gust of wind. Magically sealed.

Yixing turned back to the others, who were all staring at him with varied levels of fear and anger in their eyes. Luhan was the first to break the silence, “I don’t like this.”

“Hush.” Luhan shot Yixing a look but closed his mouth. “Just because that door is closed does not mean we are safe. You would do well to remember that, all of you.” He met Kris’ gaze for a moment, then looked at Minseok. “You’ve been here before.” Minseok nodded once. “You know what they’re going to do.”

“Oh, yes. I’m quite looking forward to it.” Minseok rolled his head back, and they all heard his neck pop. “I never tire of a good chat with the Shadow King.” His eyes flashed, and he cracked the knuckles of his left hand, then his right. “And you, Yixing? Do you know?”

“I’ve seen the Shadow Crown at their best, and at their very worst, and I fear for my life either way.” Minseok smiled briefly at him. “You ought to be careful. You, more so than I, have a vested interest in keeping them happy.” Minseok considered him for a moment, and something in his gaze made Yixing’s breath hitch slightly. Oh. Oh, he _knew_. “Who would you choose, then?”

Luhan interrupted. “Explain that bit, to those of us who have never had the pleasure of meeting the Shadow King?”

Minseok and Yixing exchanged a glance, and after a moment, Yixing turned to face his brother. “Our negotiations begin the moment that we sit at the dinner table with the King. And as soon as we sit down, we are being watched, we are being judged, and we are being read, so that he can use everything possible against us, to gain the advantage. To maximize that advantage, he listens to one person and one person alone at the table; the person who takes the seat at the opposite end of the table from him. The only things that he will take into account, at least the only things that he will consider that would benefit us, will be the things that that person says. However, that will not stop him – and I have seen this happen – from using the things that he hears from others at the table against us. He hears everything, but he listens to very little.”

Kris had been examining the room they were in, but had since drifted back to Luhan’s side, eyes careful. “He’s given us _outfits_.”

“Wear them. It’s only polite.” Minseok looked ready to argue, but Yixing stopped him with a look. “I know that he would try to use that against most people. Most people have never spoken to him before, much less negotiated against him before. We are not most people.”

Minseok bowed his head slightly. “You still haven’t answered my question. Who would you choose? Who would you send to face the Shadow Crown?” Yixing didn’t respond. “Because I’ll tell you who I would choose, if you’ll hear it.”

“Tell me, then.”

“You.”

That brought Yixing up short. “I—me?” Minseok nodded once. “ _Why_?”

“A few reasons,” Minseok said, considering Yixing with careful eyes. “One, you’ve done it before. You know him, you know his tricks, better than anyone else.” Yixing shrugged one shoulder, and Minseok continued. “Two, because, as Jiyong pointed out earlier, you aren’t tied to any one country. You want, I think, what’s best for all three of our nations.” Kris hummed his agreement. “Fourth, you are ruthless. I have seen it, I think we have all witnessed some degree of it. And finally,” he paused, fixed Yixing with a look that was impossible to read, “because you have a lot to lose at that table, and you will fight tooth and nail to make it out of there on top. The Shadow King will not know what hit him.”

“He’s right, Yixing.” Kris’ quiet murmur startled Yixing, his gaze snapping up to his elder brother’s. “I would choose either you or Minseok, but I think you’re the better of two options.”

Sehun cocked his head to the side in thought. “Consider this, also: the Shadow King will expect one of us to do it. He attacked Sivalia, the first logical choice would be myself or Luhan. He kidnapped Zitao and Baekhyun, yes, but I don’t think that he knows that you know about that, Minseok. Either way, you would be the next logical option; you’re the _King_ of Eishta. And then Kris, for obvious reasons. Yixing is the last one he’s expecting.”

“Regardless of what he’s expecting,” Luhan stepped forward, holding Yixing’s gaze. “Are you willing? Will you do it?”

Yixing exhaled. “I will. I wouldn’t rather anyone else do it.”

*

Dinner came earlier than they expected. Luhan nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the knock at the door, a split second before it was pushed open. Jiyong’s husband – Seunghyun, that was his name – had opened it, and his eyes fell first on Luhan, then on Minseok, who was standing not far away. “The King will receive you for dinner, now. If you’ll follow me.”

“We’ll be out in a moment.” Minseok’s voice had a hard edge to it, one that left little room for argument, and Seunghyun bowed his head, and slipped out of the room. He left the door open, though, and Minseok shot a look at it, before he approached Luhan. “Try not to let them get under your skin, Luhan. I know how you react under pressure. It might have worked with me; it will not work with the Shadow King.”

“Good to know.”

Minseok must have heard the fear in Luhan’s voice, because he placed a hand on his elbow. “You’ll do fine. Just follow Sehun’s lead.”

Sehun came out of one of the side rooms a moment later, Kris at his side. Yixing followed not far behind, running his fingers through his hair gently, ruining the usually perfect styling. He smiled at Luhan, who returned the grin a moment later. When Sehun reached his side, Luhan took his hand, squeezing his fingers gently.

“It’s going to be okay.” Sehun pressed a kiss to Luhan’s temple. “It’s going to be alright.”

Yixing had a strange look in his eyes, one that Luhan didn’t know how to interpret. He’d seen it before, a few times in his life, and he still, after all this time, had no idea what it meant. It was gone a moment later, though, replaced by a neutrality that barely masked anger. He looked at Kris for a few seconds, and a strange, unspoken understanding passed between them, before Yixing turned towards the door. “Let’s go.”

Minseok nodded his agreement, then left the room quickly, Yixing at his shoulder, the rest of them following not far behind. Seunghyun was waiting in the hallway, his posture bordering on impatient, but he straightened up when they left the room. He met Minseok’s gaze for a moment, then inclined his head slightly, leading them down the hallway, and into a large dining room.

They were not the last to arrive, thankfully. Seunghyun parted from them, and Minseok led them to the end of the table opposite the King, who was deep in conversation with the man beside him.

They had talked about possible seating arrangements, briefly, but had decided rather quickly that it would have to wait until they actually saw the situation as it was. Yixing held back slightly, waited as the others moved to take their places.

Sehun and Luhan sat to the right of the seat that Yixing would eventually take. That they had planned on. Kris, however, took a seat three down from where Yixing was, drawing eyes from the people sitting on either side of him, but no commentary. 

It was Minseok that eventually got the King’s attention. He walked, without hesitating, without flinching, and sat in the seat directly to the King’s left, opposite the seat that Seunghyun was standing behind. The King held Minseok’s gaze for a moment, then his gaze snapped to Yixing, who was now sitting opposite him, one leg crossed over the other.

A moment passed in silence, then the King turned to Seunghyun. “Seunghyun, I do hope your husband is on his way? I’d hate for him to miss this.”

“I’m here, Father.” They all looked up as Jiyong entered the dining room. He crossed the room quickly, pausing to kiss Seunghyun gently. “I wouldn’t ever miss dinner for the world.” He turned to face the rest of the table. “I see we still have some empty seats at the table. That won’t do.” He glanced back towards the door, whistled sharply through his teeth. A moment passed in silence, then the door opened again, and Yixing _froze_.

First through the door was a man that Yixing immediately recognized as the commander of the Shadow Crown’s royal guard; his name was Yoongi, but that wasn’t the problem. Right behind him was Tao. Yixing inhaled slowly, eyes on Yoongi as they approached, worry twisting tighter and tighter in his gut. Zitao sat in the seat immediately to Yixing’s left, his eyes on his lap, like he hadn’t noticed Yixing at all. Yoongi placed a hand on the back of the seat beside Zitao, and the man sitting there rose to his feet, stepped away, allowing Yoongi to take his seat.

“Hello, Yixing. It’s been a while.”

Yixing bit his tongue to keep from launching himself across the table towards Yoongi. “Hello, Yoongi. You’re looking well.” Out of the corner of his eye, Yixing noticed the others filtering into the room; a few others left the table slowly, making room for the last few that entered. Two seats from Minseok, Yixing saw Hoseok; to his left and right were Chanyeol and Jungguk, looking just as terrified as Yixing felt.

“There,” Jiyong said, examining the table. “Now, now I think we can get this party started, right?” He looked at Seunghyun, who nodded his assent. After a few seconds, Seunghyun sat down in his seat. A beat of silence followed, then the King got to his feet, stepped out of the way, and moved to sit between Baekhyun and Seunghyun, as Jiyong took the seat at the head of the table.

As soon as he did, everyone at the table went perfectly silent. Yixing glanced at Luhan, who squared his shoulders, offered Yixing a tight smile.

“I’m surprised that you all actually came to see us. I didn’t think you’d be so brave.” The King leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table, eyes on Yixing. “But maybe Hoseok is more motivating than he looks.” Hoseok rolled his eyes, then leaned back in his seat, arm coming to rest on the back of Jungguk’s seat, fingers brushing his shoulder.

Yoongi snorted quietly. “I think having your capital city flattened in a matter of minutes is plenty motivating, my King, but perhaps that’s a matter of opinion.” One eyebrow twitched slightly, and he glanced at Yixing, before he spoke again. “What do you think, darling?”

Zitao stiffened, breath hitching slightly. He looked at Yoongi with wide eyes, then looked towards the King, before he spoke, voice quiet. “I think there are a number of factors that went into the decision.” He leaned back after that, hiding from the intensity of Jiyong’s gaze. Yoongi chuckled softly, then put a hand on Zitao’s knee, squeezing gently.

“Smart boy, isn’t he?”

Yoongi looked at Hoseok quickly, smirking. “Absolutely brilliant.” He glanced at Zitao. “Aren’t you, darling?” Zitao blushed furiously, shoulders tense with discomfort. “Aren’t you?”

“I—all due respect, I’m inclined to disagree.” Yoongi huffed out a laugh, gaze moving from Zitao to Yixing to Jiyong in a matter of moments. As soon as he was looking away, Zitao looked to Yixing for a split second, their gazes locking before Zitao immediately broke eye contact.

Down at the other end of the table, Yixing saw Jungguk lean over to whisper something in Minseok’s ear, and Minseok chuckled quietly, then whispered back to him, shooting a look at Yixing over Jungguk’s shoulder. Jiyong took note of it, but didn’t comment, before he turned to Yixing fully. Yixing smiled blandly at him, mirroring his posture, their gazes locked.

“I’ll admit it, Yixing, I am surprised that you’re the one sitting over there. I had expected someone with a little bit more… shall we say political _sway_.”

Yixing bit his tongue gently, then spoke. “I might say the same about you, your Highness.” Jiyong cocked his head to the side in thought, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. “I’ll keep it simple, so that even you can understand it, shall I?”

Jiyong snorted quietly, a moment before a group of servants entered the room. The table lapsed into silence as dinner was served.

When the servants were gone, Jiyong spoke again, his voice quiet. “I forget how much I like you, Yixing.” Yixing nodded slowly, smiling at Jiyong. “Go on, then. Simplify it for me.”

This was it, then. It had been easier than Yixing had expected, to get the conversation in this place. They had talked about it, he and Sehun had, and as a group, they had discussed what exactly would be said when they finally got to the actual negotiating. That didn’t keep the nerves from twisting in his gut like a knife, but it certainly helped.

“One: the attacks on Sivalia cease.”

“Obviously. Once we’re no longer at war, I will have no reason to attack them.” Jiyong’s face hadn’t changed, but in his eyes, Yixing could see the spark of curiosity. “Next?”

“Those three,” he motioned to Zitao, then Baekhyun, then Jungguk, “all go with Minseok when we leave, alive and unharmed. Chanyeol goes with Sehun.” Jiyong nodded along slowly, fingertips coming to rest on the table in front of him. 

“Once again, obvious. I have no interest in keeping them around, and I’m sure that Yoongi,” he paused, gaze locking onto Yoongi’s for a moment, “can find another _darling_ in plenty of time, can’t you?”

Yoongi glanced at Zitao, gaze unreadable. “I suppose I could figure something out.” His hand had come to rest on Zitao’s thigh, and Yixing’s blood was _boiling_.

“Is there anything else? Thus far, you’ve been… uncharacteristically boring.”

Yixing leaned forward slightly, placing his hands on the table, fingers inches away from Zitao’s. “You break the mind-share with Kyungsoo.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Yixing saw the King stiffen. That, coupled with the way Jiyong’s eyes darted briefly to his father, were enough to clue him in; Jiyong hadn’t told the King about that little detail. After a moment, Jiyong seemed to have collected himself, but there was concern in his eyes. He was… _afraid_? “Easy enough. Next?”

That made Yixing wonder; what else had Jiyong done that his father didn’t know about? Just how much control had the King ceded to Jiyong, in this war—oh. “The next time you want to start a war, Jiyong, I would keep in mind that it’s generally considered good form to actually tell the party that you’re going to be attacking that you’re going to war with them. You know, so you’re not _unintentionally_ violating any century old peace treaties.”

That got Seunghyun’s attention. He straightened, gaze snapping to Yixing’s, then Jiyong’s. Jiyong swallowed, and even from here, Yixing saw his throat bob slightly. “Jiyong—”

“Hush.” Seunghyun bowed his head, as the King spoke, unbridled fury in his eyes. “Is that all, Yixing?” A moment of silence, as Yixing and Minseok exchanged a look. Yixing nodded once. “Alright. You’ll get all of that, on three conditions. One, obviously Sivalia and Eliria and Eishta all surrender.” Yixing nodded slowly. “Two, you keep your mind out of the minds of my people.” Ah, he had noticed, had he? Pity. Yixing bowed his head. “And finally,” the King paused, gaze raking over Minseok, who was gazing at him with bated breath. “I get Eishta.” He paused. “And since I’m so kind, Minseok, you can take whoever you want and get them out of there. I won’t take you from your precious lovers.”

Yixing caught Minseok’s eye, as the King turned to face Yixing. A beat of silence followed, then two, a third that stretched on far too long, before Yixing spoke. “Then I think we’ve reached an agreement, your—”

“I’m sorry, your Majesty, I don’t think we’re going to be able to make a deal today.”

Everyone at the table startled when the doors of the dining room slammed open. Minseok sighed quietly, put his head in his hands, when he saw that it was Jongdae who had spoken, Kyungsoo at his shoulder, but in his mind, Yixing could hear the relief.

Jiyong got to his feet as Jongdae approached the table. “And why is that?”

Jongdae fixed him with a furious gaze, as he moved to stand in front of Jiyong, just beside where Minseok was sitting. “You invited them here with the intention of killing them. You were never going to give them what they asked for.” Jiyong didn’t reply to that. “Besides, Yixing can’t hand over Eishta without the approval of the Dark Crown, and right now? That’s something he doesn’t have.”

“And who are _you_ to tell me what the Dark Crown does or doesn’t approve of?”

Jongdae smiled at him, as Minseok reached up to take his hand, squeezing gently. “I’m the King of Eishta, you fucking _bastard_.”

Time seemed to slow, as Jongdae took a swing at Jiyong. And, if Yixing had been looking at Zitao, if he had seen the flash of gold across his eyes, he would have realized that it had, in fact, slowed. But at the moment, Yixing was focused on the King.

He vaulted across the table towards the King, collided with his body, knocking them both to the floor, his hands braced on either side of the King’s face, channeling everything that was swirling in his mind into the King’s.

It was a last ditch effort if he had ever made one.

***

Joonmyun, for all that he was never on time, was glad that he hadn’t left a moment later than he did. For once, he arrived just in time, to grab the wolf – half-breed, part dog if he’d ever seen one – and drag it away from the body on the ground. The animal didn’t like that, but Joonmyun was stronger than he looked, and the beast was starving. It bit at Joonmyun, but he ducked out of the way, arm winding around the wolf’s neck, twisting just hard enough to break its neck, before he dropped the body on the ground.

“Wh—oh.”

“Oh? _Oh_ , that’s all I get? I just saved your ass, and all you can say is oh?”

“You’ve destroyed my life on a number of occasions, your Highness; saving my ass once is the least you can do.” Jongin pushed himself up onto his forearms, trying to blink away the pounding headache. “Why—why are you here?” He looked at Joonmyun for a moment. “Did you come _looking_ for me?”

“Of course not. Why would I _ever_ do that?” Joonmyun held out a hand, and after a moment, Jongin took it, allowed Joonmyun to help him to his feet. “What happened to you?”

Jongin groaned quietly at the memory, looking at Joonmyun with pain in his eyes. “Hoseok happened to me. I went after Minseok, as you know, but before I could find him, Hoseok knocked me out of my jump, then proceeded to beat the shit out of me, as a warning to the rest of you. Or something.” He touched his fingers to his throbbing cheekbone, winced when he realized that the skin was split, though it had stopped bleeding. “What’s going on?”

“The others went to Kazir.”

“They _what_?”

“Hoseok came with an invitation from the Shadow Crown. They wanted us to negotiate our surrender. Yixing, Luhan, Sehun, Kris, and Minseok went to… to do that. Um. They told the rest of us to stay behind, but Kyungsoo and Jongdae – and the soldiers that Kris brought from Eliria – all went after them.” Joonmyun paused. “I stayed put, and then I came looking for you. Jongdae was right; it’s a trap.”

“ _Obviously_ it’s a trap, this is Kazir we’re talking about!”

“Yeah, well, I’m a little bit late to catch up to them now—”

“Don’t worry.” Jongin’s eyes were unreadable. He placed a hand on Joonmyun’s shoulder. “I can get us there.” Joonmyun nodded once, and Jongin chuckled softly, fingers flexing slightly. “Hey, Joonmyun?”

“Jongin.”

Jongin cleared his throat, then tapped his neck gently with his free hand. “You have a—you have a hickey.”

Before Joonmyun had time to react, they had vanished.

***

Behind them, the inferno burned on, swallowing anything and everything in its path. Before them, a sheer wall of ice rose from the ground and vanished into the clouds.

_The gods had given them their gifts to protect the people. Ironic, wasn’t it, that the gifts would be the thing to tear down the world?_

The fire was getting closer.

_We were chosen. We were given our gifts, to protect these people, to uphold the will of the gods in this world. The hell-touched were made to balance us, creating equality in a world that had none. Creating order in a lawless world._

Thunder cracked through the air, lightning flashing through the dark clouds above.

_Until someone had an idea. Why shouldn’t a normal person, a human person, be able to have the powers of the god-touched? Why can’t everyone have that power?_

Deep valleys had carved themselves across the land, the land that they upturned tossed through the air carelessly.

_And thus, a movement was born. The movement that would destroy everything that these people had held dear._

All light had been sucked out of the world, except for the flames burning behind them, and the occasional flash of lightning above. The wall of ice that trapped them in the fire’s path was barely visible.

_The time of the god-touched would come to a close. The time of relative peace, relative balance, will come to an end._

The screams echoed in the air, slashing angrily through the relative silence. A gust of wind blew past, barely enough to ruffle hair.

 _The Age of Shadow would descend upon the world. At its helm, the one responsible for the destruction of everything that we once knew_.

And there he was, a dark shadow against the fire.

_So, you see, your Majesty, what happens if he is not brought to heel. If he is allowed to continue in this matter. If he is appeased. Your world crumbles._

The King turned, freezing in place when he saw the wall behind him. In it, he could see bodies, faces, _people_ trapped in the ice. And there, at the front of it all?

_You._

Him.

_You will be the first to go, when he ascends to power. Your body, pitched off of the top of the palace. Not even the Shadow King could survive that fall._

And so it would begin.

_You wanted to know what he wanted with the hell-touched? With Chanyeol and Zitao and Baekhyun and Kyungsoo? He wanted their power. His soul absorbed everything that they were given. In the wrong hands, that power is dangerous, as you’ve come to see._

So it would be.

_You let him win this time, then he takes their power, he takes the Dark King’s power, he takes everything, and he uses it to destroy the world. He uses it to destroy you._

There had to be—

_It’s simple enough. Don’t let him win._

***

It happened faster than Zitao had expected.

One moment, he was watching Yixing vault across the table, everything around him slowing as Zitao’s power slipped away from him for a split second, and the next, he was being dragged backwards, away from the table. He twisted, trying to squirm away, but whoever was holding him had a tight grip. Across the room, he could see Yixing kneeling on the King’s chest, holding him down, as chaos swallowed the others.

It was all happening too fast.

Minseok shoved Jungguk out of the way as he threw himself at Hoseok, frost spiraling through the air and crystallizing around Hoseok’s body. Not fast enough to stop him, but enough to slow him down, enough that Chanyeol could scramble away, stumbling into Sehun, who placed a hand on his shoulder, holding him upright.

“Namjoon, Jimin, get him out of here.”

Yoongi’s quiet murmur startled Zitao, but not early enough. He felt hands wrap around his arms, vice-like and unbreakable, in his state, and then they were pulling him away, towards the door.

Kris had Baekhyun. That was good, he was safe, he was fine, he was going to be okay. And Jongdae, he could hold his own, he would be alright. They would be fine.

Time slowed – not for real this time; Zitao had done nothing – when he saw Seunghyun moving towards Yixing. Fury froze his blood, and he struggled, but Namjoon and Jimin were strong, they were Shadow Blades, and there were few that would have been able to break their grip.

Seunghyun almost had his hands on Yixing, when a streak of black came out of nowhere, flew across the room, and collided with Seunghyun’s body, knocking him back. They rolled, and when they came to halt, Seunghyun was flat on his back, Jungguk kneeling over him.

Yoongi’s quiet noise of fury was enough to pull Zitao’s gaze away from the pair, eyes immediately finding the two bodies on the other side of the room. Shadow Blades, both of them; they must have held Jungguk in the same way that Namjoon and Jimin now held Zitao. Hard to believe that Jungguk – sweet, quiet, _terrified_ Jungguk – had done that.

“I said get him _out_.” His hiss was furious. A moment passed, then Namjoon and Jimin were moving, dragging Zitao with them. He squirmed, struggling to try and free himself from their grip, but they were stronger than he was. As they dragged him away, he saw Yoongi move towards Jungguk, dragging him off of Seunghyun’s body.

Jiyong had Jongdae.

That realization froze the room. Eyes were focused one of two places; on Jiyong, who had an arm locked around Jongdae’s neck, pinning him in place; or on Minseok, who was standing ten feet away from them, eyes glowing silver, frost crystallizing across the floor, centered at his feet. Baekhyun was straining against Kris’ grip, but Kris was stronger than he was, by a long shot. Baekhyun wasn’t getting anywhere near them.

Namjoon and Jimin had both stopped, but their grips were like iron, unbreakable. Zitao had stopped squirming, but he was still more than aware of the fact that he couldn’t break free if he tried. Across the room, he could see Luhan, his fingers wrapped around Sehun’s wrist, holding him close. Kyungsoo was hovering behind them, tension written in every line of his body.

“I will kill him, you know I will.” Jiyong’s grip tightened slightly, and Jongdae’s jaw clenched furiously. He was still squirming, wriggling furiously in Jiyong’s grip. “Oh, shh, hush, little one. As long as your pretty husband does exactly what I say – to the _letter_ , mind you – then you have nothing to worry about.” Jongdae growled, fingers wrapping around Jiyong’s arm to try and tug it away. “ _No_ , little one, that’s not going to happen. I’m not letting you _go_ , not until Minseok gives me a good reason to.”

Minseok, frankly, looked like he wanted to murder Jiyong. “What do you—”

“Simple: everything that we demanded earlier, except this time, Yoongi gets to keep his darling, Hoseok gets to keep Jungguk, and Kazir gets to keep Chanyeol.” Jongdae snarled quietly, thrashing. “You agree to my terms, and you get to walk out of here, with your husband, with Sehun and Luhan and Kris and Yixing and Kyungsoo in tow.”

“I—” Minseok looked around the room quickly, brows furrowing. When he faced Jiyong again, there was a strange, downtrodden acceptance on his face.

“So, what’s it going to be, Minseok?”

“I—”

Out of the corner of his eye, Zitao saw something move, but he didn’t say a word, didn’t turn to look. He had no idea who it was, it probably wasn’t anything important, but he didn’t want to draw attention to it.

A moment passed in silence. Minseok opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, they heard, “I’d like to propose an alternative idea, your Highness.”

Jiyong turned his head, lips pursing when he saw – _ah_. That was—what the _fuck_ was _Joonmyun_ doing here? Zitao was straining against Namjoon’s grip, now, but he was unyielding.

“And what would that be, Prince Joonmyun?”

Jiyong’s gaze was predatory, dangerous, and Jongdae looked _terrified_. He was barely breathing, lower lip caught between his teeth, eyes wide and full of tears. He was crying, sniffling as quietly as possible, trembling in Jiyong’s grip. A moment passed in silence between him, then Joonmyun tipped his head to the side. Jiyong glanced towards where he had indicated, and when he saw the two people on the other side of the room, he went pale. Zitao had never seen someone that pale, it couldn’t have been _healthy_ , but—

Oh.

“You stop the war, you let Jongdae and Zitao and Jungguk and Chanyeol go, you keep your ass out of Kazir, and Jongin doesn’t hurt your husband.” At the mention of Seunghyun, Jongin’s grip on him flexed, and Seunghyun stopped squirming. He was panting quietly, eyes locked on Jiyong, pleading silently. “You want to play dirty, your Highness, we can play dirty.”

Jiyong blinked slowly but didn’t release Jongdae. After a few seconds of silence, his jaw clenched, fury lighting in his eyes, the fear vanishing, like it had never existed. “Joonmyun,” he paused, grip shifting slightly, fingers wrapping around Jongdae’s neck. “you are playing a very dangerous game.”

They lapsed into silence for a few seconds. As the seconds wore on, the tension in the room climbed, and Zitao knew – he could _feel_ – that it was starting to reach a breaking point. Something was going to break, and when it did, it was going to go very badly.

The silence was broken by the sound of Jungguk breaking free from Yoongi’s grip and scrambling away from him. He was aiming for Kris and Baekhyun, but before he could get very far, Hoseok had an arm locked around his waist, holding him in place. Jungguk whined in his throat, high-pitched and pure fear, squirming, but Hoseok’s grip was too tight.

“Jiyong.”

He turned his head, to find the King standing over Yixing’s body. Zitao’s breath locked in his throat, but he didn’t move, didn’t speak. After a few seconds, the King spoke quietly, his voice quiet, but dangerous. “My son,” Jiyong blinked slowly, as Jongdae sniffled. “what did we talk about last night?” Jiyong exhaled slowly, shoulders tense. “Because I seem to remember having a conversation about what really matters in life. You remember?”

“Yes.”

The King hummed quietly, as he started towards Jiyong. “Remind me what I told you, about the choice that you were going to have to make.”

“It’s a choice between what makes me happy now, and what makes my entire country happy in the future.” The King nodded slowly. “And in Kazir, we always, _always_ put our country first, without hesitation.”

“That’s right.” He paused, examining Jiyong closely. “So, _son_ ,” the word was venomous, angry, full of fury, and in that moment, Zitao understood exactly where Jiyong had gotten that particular edge from. “you have a choice to make. You save your husband,” anger, venom, danger, hatred, “or you do what your country wants you to do.”

Jiyong exhaled softly, blinking slowly as he gazed at his father. After a few seconds, he nodded slowly, then faced Jongin, an unreadable look in his eyes. Zitao could see the King getting angrier by the second, jaw clenching tighter and tighter the longer that Jiyong made him wait. “Let him go.”

Jongin didn’t move immediately, didn’t release Seunghyun until Jiyong let Jongdae go. As Jongdae scrambled away, he released his grip on Seunghyun, who pulled back, pressing himself into the wall, still watching Jiyong closely as he made his way around the room, towards his husband. A moment passed in silence, then Jiyong spoke again, his voice a low hiss. “Take him,” he paused, gaze sweeping over the room, deliberately avoiding his father. “and take Chanyeol, and Zitao, and Jungguk,” a moment of silence; he was following Seunghyun’s progress out of the corner of his eye. “and get the _fuck_ out of Kazir.”

Joonmyun broke the silence. “The war ends.”

“Done.”

“Break the mindshare.”

“I will. You have my word.”

“No more of this.”

“Agreed.” Jiyong didn’t break eye contact with Joonmyun, as Seunghyun came to his side. He wrapped an arm around his waist, hugging him gently into his side. “Get out.”

There was raw emotion, hidden under layers and layers of anger and hatred and fury and venom. They – Joonmyun and Jongin, but mostly Jongin – had scared the _shit_ out of him. He had, for at least a moment, feared that they would actually kill his husband.

Zitao was the first to move, when Namjoon and Jimin released him. He made his way across the room, making sure to stay aware of the King’s presence, and knelt beside Yixing. Jungguk met him there, and they shared a tight, tense smile, as they both pulled Yixing upright.

He could see Kris guiding Baekhyun towards the door, Luhan and Sehun and Chanyeol not far behind him. Minseok was holding Jongdae against his chest, one hand cradling the back of his head, but after a few moments, he led Jongdae towards the door.

Jongin was frozen in place. Even from across the room, Zitao could see the panic starting to set in, flickering dimly in his eyes, tiny flashes of indigo dancing in his eyes. He was so locked in his own head that he didn’t notice Kyungsoo approaching, didn’t notice that he was there until Kyungsoo had an arm around his waist. “Let’s go, Jongin.” He pulled Jongin towards the door, led him out of the dining room. Zitao followed closely behind them, leaving Joonmyun alone.

He had moved to stand at the end of the table, fingers resting on the top of the chair. He looked at Jiyong for a long moment, before he spoke, voice quiet. “I’m glad we could resolve this.” Jiyong nodded slowly, swallowing hard. Seunghyun was gripping him tightly, still trembling. “Thank you.”

Joonmyun started to turn away but froze when he heard Jiyong speak. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t keep his confusion off of his face. “Excuse me?”

Jiyong’s jaw clenched furiously; he didn’t want to repeat himself, not with his father standing about five feet from him. “I _said_ that I’m _sorry_ for what I did. To you, to your family, to your friends, and to your country.” Joonmyun opened his mouth to say something, but Jiyong shook his head. “Just… _go_.”

Ah, Joonmyun understood. The longer Jiyong waited, the more his emotions rang in his voice, the more obvious it became that he had been shaken, emotionally, by the incident. He nodded slowly, then turned on his heel, to leave the dining room. As he pulled the door open, he heard the unmistakable sound of a palm meeting skin in a sharp, painful, angry slap, and he winced, squeezing his eyes shut. He shouldn’t turn around, he shouldn’t look, he shouldn’t _interfere_ —

“He made the right choice, you know, your Majesty.”

Fuck his stupid fucking mouth. Maybe Kris was right; he had no fucking self-control, he had absolutely no filter—

“Say that again.”

The venom and fury in the King’s voice lanced through Joonmyun’s heart, sharp and painful and awful, and _how_ must Jiyong have felt, hearing things like this from his father, every day, every night, for _years_? And it was that idea, the thought of having to feel like this, every day, that threw any control that he might have otherwise had out the window.

“I _said_ ,” Joonmyun turned on his heel, re-entered the room, fury coiling in his stomach when he saw Seunghyun on the floor, Jiyong standing beside him, head bowed, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. “that your son made the best choice that he could have in that situation. He had two shitty options, and he chose the better of the two, for all parties involved.”

The King snorted. “I’m so glad that you feel the need to offer your opinion.” Joonmyun needed to back off, he needed to get out of here, before this went horribly. “I’ll remind you, you know nothing about our country and you know nothing about our _family_.”

“I think I’ve seen enough, to understand _plenty_.” Joonmyun returned to his position at the end of the table. “Just because he doesn’t rule the country the same way that you do, doesn’t mean that he’s not doing a good job of it. Just because he doesn’t _think_ the way you do doesn’t mean that he isn’t good at what he does. And just because he chose his husband over _you_ doesn’t mean that he made the wrong choice.” The King rolled his eyes but allowed Joonmyun to continue. “And the choice was never his happiness or his country. His choice was what _you_ wanted, or what was best for both Seunghyun and for him. He made the right choice.”

Seunghyun had gotten to his feet, in the midst of Joonmyun’s words. But as Joonmyun ended his speech, the King moved, faster than Joonmyun could follow, towards Seunghyun.

His intent was obvious. Seunghyun flinched, but before the King could get to him, Jiyong was standing between them, facing his father, shoulders square. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said—” he cut off, breath hitching as Seunghyun touched his shoulder gently, tears slipping down his face. “I said _no_. You aren’t going to hurt him, not anymore.”

The Shadow King, it seemed, did not have to hear the word _no_ very often. He didn’t _like_ to be told no. Jiyong, surely, knew this.

And in that moment, Joonmyun’s chest _ached_ with how much respect he had for Jiyong. Yes, he had been awful. Yes, he had hurt Sivalia, and Eishta, and Eliria. And yes, Joonmyun would resent him forever for that. But he knew, in the back of his mind, that most of the reason for that had been his father. And in the end, Jiyong had chosen Seunghyun, had chosen to side with Seunghyun – and with _himself_ – over choosing his father.

And Joonmyun couldn’t hate him, because of that.

His willingness to put himself between the King and Seunghyun spoke volumes.

“Step aside.”

Jiyong’s lower lip trembled, but he shook his head. “No. No. Never.”

“I’ll remind you, _Jiyong_ , that you aren’t the King yet. At this rate, you never will be.” A silence followed the words, before the King spoke again. “Go with them, then. Get out of my country, follow them out of here. Leave Kazir, and take your _bitch_ with you.”

“Father—”

He cut off when Seunghyun wrapped his fingers around his wrist, pulling him back slightly. “Let’s go, Ji.”

Jiyong’s eyes were filled with betrayal, pain, loss, anger, _fear_ , but he allowed Seunghyun to pull him away, towards Joonmyun. When they reached him, Joonmyun smiled at Seunghyun, then turned on his heel, and led the two of them out of dining room.

The others were waiting in the hallway. When they saw Jiyong and Seunghyun, they tensed, and Minseok opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Joonmyun spoke. “Just… I’ll explain later, can we just get out of here?”

Kris, it seemed, was the only one who realized that something was wrong. But Joonmyun – stupid, arrogant, proud, _stupid_ Joonmyun – resolutely avoided his gaze, stayed by Seunghyun and Jiyong.

***

Luhan collapsed onto the couch beside Sehun, who put a gentle arm around his shoulders, pulling him into his side. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, before Luhan spoke, voice quiet. “Yixing got Jongin fixed up before he left for Eishta. Kris left for Eliria, too.” Sehun hummed quietly. “Last I saw, Jongin had passed out on Kyungsoo’s lap.”

“They’re going to be alright. They’ll work it out, and they’ll be just fine. Kyungsoo is absolutely whipped for him, there’s no way he’s going to let Jongin go again.”

Luhan exhaled quietly, then kissed Sehun’s shoulder gently. “I know.” A moment passed, then he squirmed closer, until he was halfway into Sehun’s lap. “I’m sorry, about—about your parents and also about not telling you as soon as I found out.”

“It’s not your fault, Luhan, I told you that already.” Sehun’s grip on him tightened, and Luhan smiled up at him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, sunshine.” Luhan rolled his eyes, then kissed Sehun gently, fingers resting on his jaw. “That whole… all of that. If I learned one thing, it’s that if I found myself in the situation that Minseok and Jiyong did today, I would make the same choice, without hesitation. I would sacrifice… I would sacrifice so much, to keep you safe.” Luhan kissed him again, and when he pulled back, he was smiling. “I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“And you never _will_. I’ll be here, with you, _forever_. I love you, I’ll love you forever, and you’re never going to lose me.” Something humorous lit up in his eyes, and he grinned. “Besides, if anyone put their hands on me, like Jiyong did with Jongdae, or like Jongin did with Seunghyun, I would kick their ass.”

“I know.” Sehun kissed him one more time. “Is Jongin okay? He looked… he got pretty beat up.”

“Hoseok yanked him out of his jump, when he was trying to find Minseok. Beat the shit out of him.” Sehun hummed quietly, pulling Luhan fully into his lap. “But he’s strong, and Yixing’s good at what he does. Jongin’s going to be just fine.” He wrapped his arms around Sehun’s shoulders, hugging him close. “I will say, that trick he pulled on Jiyong? I… obviously I’m glad he did it, but I was shocked. I had—I knew that he was intense, I knew that he was very fearless, and I knew how protective he was, but I had no idea that he would… that he would do something like that, for—for us.”

“As am I.” Sehun shifted slightly. “I’m also surprised that _Joonmyun_ got involved. I’m surprised that he… did you know that he _found_ Jongin? He went looking for him, he _saved_ him. _My_ brother, who _hates_ you, and me, and Jongin, went after Jongin, and saved him, and _brought him to Kazir_ , to save all of us. It was… we would be dead, if not for him, and I’m going to be forever grateful for what he did.”

Luhan cleared his throat. “Speaking of Joonmyun.” He paused, smirking. “When he met Kris? That was the first time I’d ever seen him shut up. I’ve never seen him speechless. Have you?” Sehun shook his head once. “I think Kris might be able to drill some sense into him.”

“I love you.”

Luhan closed his mouth, eyes wide. “I—I love you, too.”

Sehun kissed him, fingers sliding into his hair, gripping tightly. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?” Luhan nodded quickly. A moment passed, then Sehun stood, lifting Luhan with him. “My pretty sunshine, I’m so lucky. I’m so glad you decided to spitefully show up.”

Luhan snickered quietly. “Me too.”

***

Yixing had just turned a corner when he found himself face-to-face with Minseok. He went still, their gazes locking; he could see exactly what it was that Minseok was going to say, he could have seen it without being able to read the energy vibrating off of Minseok’s skin.

“If you hurt him,” Minseok’s voice was deadly quiet. “I will slaughter you. There are not many people that I allow into my home, into my _family_. I have not known you for a very long time, Yixing, and I know next to _nothing_ about you, and for that reason, I shouldn’t allow you anywhere near him.” He paused, examining Yixing’s face closely. “But Zitao would kill me, if I did that. You are, I think, the one person that he has ever truly loved, in a… a romantic aspect.

“He has had a very difficult life. He has been hurt, in so many different ways. And, for some reason, he trusts you not to hurt him. It is because of that trust that I will allow you to stay here with him. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“You violate that trust, you hurt him, you’re _finished_.”

“I understand.”

“Go, then.” Yixing nodded quickly, and slipped away, down the hallway, towards Zitao’s bedroom. He heard Minseok sigh quietly behind him, but he didn’t glance back, didn’t stop moving until he was standing outside of Zitao’s door.

He didn’t get a chance to knock. He had only been standing there for a few seconds, before Zitao pulled the door open, eyes wide. “Hi.” He breathed out the word softly, then pushed the door open wider, so Yixing could step into the room. As soon as the door was closed, Zitao had his hands on Yixing, one on his shoulder, the other one on his waist. He pressed a kiss to his mouth, humming quietly in his throat when Yixing wrapped his arms around his waist.

When Zitao pulled away, he looked conflicted. After a few seconds, he spoke again, voice quiet. “I have to tell you something.” Yixing nodded, and after a few seconds, Zitao walked towards the bed. He sat down, and Yixing came to sit beside him, not touching. “I—Yixing, I should have told you earlier, I should have said something back then, but I—I think I love you.”

He sounded so fragile. After a moment, Yixing held out his hand, and Zitao took it, squeezing gently. “Kitten, look at me.” Zitao nodded, looked up to meet Yixing’s gaze. The same fragility in his voice was reflected in his eyes, wide and lost and tear-filled. Yixing’s heart ached for him, he would have done anything to make sure that Zitao never, _never_ looked like that again. He hated seeing that pain in _anyone_ ; seeing it in _Zitao_ made him want to die. There wasn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t have done, in that moment, to see Zitao smile. “Kitten, I love you, too.”

Ah, there it was, that sweet, pretty, _soft_ little smile. “Really?”

“Yes, sweetheart.” As soon as he said it, tension bled out of Zitao’s shoulders, and he leaned into Yixing, pressing his face into his shoulder. “Oh, _angel_ , I do love you, I love you so much, don’t ever doubt that. You mean the world to me.” Zitao wrapped his arms around Yixing, clinging tightly to him. “Can I kiss you, sweetheart?” Zitao nodded quickly, lower lip trembling. After a moment, Yixing leaned closer, to press a gentle kiss to his mouth. “My darling angel.”

When he pulled away, Zitao sighed, then all but threw himself into Yixing’s lap, straddling his thighs. “I love you, I love you so much.” Yixing snickered quietly, hands moving to grip Zitao’s hips. “Yixing, you _told me_ that we would… that we would get to have sex, that you would have sex with me, _please_.” Yixing smiled, then pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. “You said we could.”

“I know. I _know_ , sweetheart.” One hand rose to Zitao’s hair, sliding into it easily. “And we will. We will, my sweet angel.” Zitao huffed quietly, ducking down to kiss him again. “Are you _sure_ , kitten, that you want to do this? Because if there’s one thing I don’t want to do, kitten, it’s make you uncomfortable, or do something with you that you’re going to regret.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, I’m _not_ , I love you, I adore you, I’m never going to regret it, I promise.” Yixing hummed softly, fingers sliding under Zitao’s shirt. “Please, please, _please_ , Yixing, you _promised_ me.”

“I know, kitten.” A moment passed, then Zitao’s hands fell to Yixing’s waist, tugging his shirt over his head. “My sweet kitten, I won’t break that promise to you.” Zitao whined softly, squirming in Yixing’s lap, a moment before Yixing yanked on his shirt, tearing the fabric apart to pull it off of his body. He shuddered when Yixing’s hands came to rest on his sides, thumbs resting just under his ribcage. “My pretty kitten.”

“I—Yixing, _please_ —”

“No, no, kitten. I’ve waited a long time for this, and I’m going to take my fucking time with you. You understand?” Zitao pouted at him, lower lip trembling. “Oh, kitten, sweet little kitten, that’s absolutely _adorable_.” He touched a hand to Zitao’s jaw, thumb brushing over his lower lip. “I’m not going to go any faster because of it.”

“But why?”

Yixing smiled. “Because, my kitten, we only get to have sex for the first time once. We only get to have this night _once_ , and I’ll be damned if I don’t take my time and savor each and every fucking moment of it. Besides,” he paused, stroking down his hands down Zitao’s sides, before coming to grip his thighs gently. “I think, sweetheart, that I’m rather going to enjoy drawing this out,” one hand slipped behind Zitao, fingers tucking under the waistband of his pants, and Zitao’s breath hitched, teeth catching on his lower lip. “and making you beg for it.”

Zitao let out a high-pitched half-whine, half-moan, rocking forward into Yixing’s body, hips rolling, dragging over Yixing’s crotch. “But _Yixing_ , that’s—”

“You can take it, can’t you, kitten?”

Zitao pouted at him for a few moments, all wide, tear-filled eyes, and trembling lower lip. This was Yixing, offering him a cop-out, giving him a chance to end this teasing game that they had been playing. And frankly, part of Zitao wanted to do that, wanted to skip the teasing and get straight to what he really _wanted_ , but there was another part of him, a part that knew that Yixing would make it so much better if he went along with the game.

“I—I can try?”

“Not what I asked, was it, kitten?”

Zitao’s breath locked in his throat when Yixing’s hands moved to cup his ass, squeezing gently. “I—no, it wasn’t, I—I can take it. I can.”

Yixing smiled, then kissed him gently. “Of course you can.” Zitao whined quietly, gripping Yixing’s shoulders tightly. “You’re more than capable, aren’t you? My pretty little kitty cat, you can handle anything that I throw at you. My sweet, patient little angel.”

“Yixing, _please_ —”

“Shh, kitten, relax. Take a breath.” Zitao inhaled deeply, as Yixing moved backwards, shifting Zitao slightly. “Go sit back against the pillows, angel.” Zitao whined in his throat, and Yixing chuckled, pressed a kiss to his jaw as Zitao moved to obey. “And you can take the rest of your clothes off, if you’d like.”

Yixing smiled as he watched Zitao slide out of his pants, tossing them out of the way. “Can I—can you please kiss me again?” Yixing hummed softly, then nodded. Zitao crawled towards him, pressed a gentle kiss to Yixing’s mouth. “Mm. One more?” Yixing chuckled, then kissed him one more time, before reaching for Zitao’s cock, fingers wrapping around it gently. “I— _oh_. Yixing, _please_ , please—”

“Patience, kitten.” He ran his fingers through Zitao’s hair. “Scoot back there, sweetheart, Okay?” Zitao nodded quickly, and did as he was told, watching Yixing with wide eyes. “Tell me,” he paused, considering Zitao with gentle eyes. “what exactly it is that I think you are.”

Zitao inhaled slowly, then released the breath, eyes on Yixing. “You think that I—that I’m pretty, that I’m beautiful. That I’m your—your sweet little angel.”

“That’s exactly right, kitten. You’re absolutely perfect.”

“Yixing?”

“Yes, angel?”

Zitao made a quiet noise in his throat. “I think you’re pretty, too. You’re gorgeous.” Yixing smiled at him. “I love you, so much. My beautiful love.” 

“Such a sentimental little thing, aren’t you?”

“Just for you.” He held out his hands, and after a moment, Yixing took them, allowed Zitao to yank him into his lap, their mouths sealing together. Zitao’s arms wrapped around Yixing’s body, holding him against his chest. “Only for you.”

“Mm. My pretty little baby.” Yixing snickered, then kissed Zitao’s forehead gently. “My lovely little kitten, you’re so gorgeous. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Can you _please_ fuck me now?”

“Hey, now, you’re going to get what you want. Just relax, kitten, and let me take care of you.” Zitao whined quietly, and Yixing hushed him, pressed one more kiss to his mouth. “You just stay there, alright? Stay there, let me take care of it, just like before, yeah?”

“Please touch me.”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m going to touch you _plenty_.” Yixing had come to kneel between Zitao’s legs, hands resting on his knees. “I want you to tell me something, kitten.”

“Yeah?”

Yixing’s hand traveled up his thigh slowly, dragging across his skin, over his hip, fingers coming to rest on his stomach gently. He felt Zitao go perfectly still underneath him, teeth sinking into his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. “Will you tell me about these?” He touched the tip of one finger to one of the scars, gentle.

Zitao inhaled slowly, lips pressed firmly together. A moment passed, then two, then a third, before he finally spoke, voice quiet, fragile, scared. “I was ten, when I joined the Iron Crow.” Yixing’s eyes were locked on his, calm and steady, just as always. “There were… I think there were six boys, six who were my age, but there were… there were probably twenty of us, in training. Some had been there longer than others.” Yixing’s fingers were dragging up and down his side gently, centering Zitao’s focus.

“And the twenty of us, we were all… our unit was commanded by…” he choked on a sob, then ran his fingers through his hair, trying desperately not to cry. He didn’t want to cry, not now, he didn’t want to ruin the night, _this night_ , with his fucking tears. “It was Yoongi.” Yixing blinked slowly, fingers on his free hand resting on Zitao’s thigh. He had known that, he had seen it in Yoongi’s eyes, had seen the _possession_. “And he—well, I was _ten_ , I thought we were _friends_ , I didn’t know that he—that that wasn’t how _friends_ were supposed to treat each other, _touch_ each other.”

He had to take a few moments, to collect himself, before he continued, voice now laced with fury. “That went on for… probably three years, before I got the balls to tell him _no_ , for the first time. And he… well, he really didn’t take that well. That was when he… when he…” his fingers moved, to touch the scar that curved across the underside of his ribcage, jagged and brutal. “That was the first time, but as you can tell, it wasn’t the last.”

“How long? How long did it go on?”

“A year. I was fourteen, when they sent me to Eishta. They made it very clear, that if I was compromised, if I _failed_ , in any way, I’d die upon my return to Eliria.” Yixing nodded slowly. “I knew that I couldn’t go back to them, to _him_. So, I—I… when I got caught, by those Ravens, yeah, I fought back, but as soon as they gave me that choice? I didn’t hesitate. They gave me a second chance, they gave me the chance to have a new life.

“And yeah, there were times when I… when I thought that maybe I regretted my choice, but now… now I realize that I wouldn’t change it for the world. If I had to go back and make that choice again, I would make the exact same decision. I would leave the Iron Crow, I would join the Dark Raven, I would go on that stupid fucking mission with Hoseok and Baekhyun and Jongdae, I would do everything the exact same, except maybe, just _maybe_ , I would demand that you fuck me earlier.”

Yixing smiled, then leaned down to kiss him gently. “My precious angel.” Zitao wrapped his arms around Yixing, pulling him tight against his chest. “No one is going to hurt you, ever again. You understand?” Zitao nodded quickly. “I won’t fucking _let_ them.”

Zitao was crying, he realized that now. “Yixing, I—” he cut off with a soft noise, then tried again. “When I saw you in that dining room, when I saw you going up against Jiyong and the rest of the Shadow Crown, I—I love you, so much, I was so relieved to see you there, I had been so scared for so long, but as soon as I saw _you_ , I knew that you would get me out of there.”

“ _Kitten_ , I will _always_ be there for you. I will _always_ keep you safe, my pretty little kitten.” He patted Zitao’s cheek gently, then kissed him softly, nipping at his lower lip. “I _love you_ , I love you so much, my sweet angel.”

“Yixing, _please_ , please fuck me, please, I want you to, I want you inside me, I want you to touch me, please, please, _please_ , I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I know.” Yixing’s mouth moved to his jaw, then his neck. “Let me give you a pretty little mark, right where you wanted it before.” Zitao keened quietly, and Yixing bit down on the skin just beneath his ear, sucking hard. When he pulled away, Zitao was smiling brightly. “You’re mine, now. No one else gets to touch you.”

He slid a hand underneath Zitao’s jaw, thumb resting on his chin. After a few moments, Zitao spoke, voice soft. “And you’re mine. No one else gets to touch _you_.”

“Naturally.”

“Say it. Tell me.”

Yixing smiled down at him. “You are mine,” he paused, leaning closer. “and I am yours. You will always be mine, and I will always be yours, I promise you that.” Zitao hummed quietly, then kissed Yixing again. “I’ll fuck you now, just like you wanted, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh laytao is so disgustingly cute


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is 95% self-indulgence, and 5% plot.  
> Fair warning - only the last part is plot.

Joonmyun was pouting.

Well, he had _been_ pouting, for two months. It had been two months, since they had gotten back to Sivalia. Two months, since Sehun had officially taken his throne, two months since the end of that stupid war, two _fucking_ months since he had seen Kris.

He wasn’t exactly keen on admitting to that last part. And he had tried to get away from the palace, had tried to sneak away for long enough to go and see Kris, but Sehun had kept him busy, far busier than he had ever been before. A month ago, Luhan and Sehun had finally gotten married, and they were just as adorably in love as ever. It was _disgusting_.

But nowhere near as disgusting as Kyungsoo and Jongin.

Jongin still served Luhan, that was his primary role, it always would be, they all knew that. But now that Luhan had what seemed like _hundreds_ of people obeying his orders, before he could even give them, Jongin had plenty of free time.

Free time in which he glued himself to Kyungsoo’s side. In two months, he had learned just about everything there was to know about doing Kyungsoo’s job. Joonmyun was utterly _convinced_ that if Kyungsoo ever died, ever left the Crown, was ever unable to do his duty, Jongin would be plenty capable of taking over.

That said, if Kyungsoo ever died, Jongin probably wouldn’t be around much longer.

Joonmyun was at the end of his rope. He wanted _out_ of Sivalia. He loved his brother, more than anything, but Sehun had absolutely no reason to keep him around. Every task that Joonmyun was given was pointless; there were twenty members of the noble houses that could have done the things that Sehun had asked him to do. Frankly, he was over it.

And that was the only reason that he snuck out the way he did. He wouldn’t have done it, ordinarily, but he was sick of _waiting_ , and honestly, he didn’t give a shit if that made him a brat.

“The Crown Prince will be with you in a moment, your Highness.”

Joonmyun nodded slowly, walked towards the window, arms wrapped around his body. He was nervous, more so than he’d ever been in his life. It had been two months since he’d seen Kris. He had no idea what had happened to the Prince in that time. Part of him was scared to find out.

He didn’t hate Eliria as much as Sehun did. For all that his mother had complained about how dry it was, Joonmyun found it refreshing. It suited him, much more than the suffocating humidity of Sivalia had.

“Joonmyun?”

He turned quickly, eyes finding Kris in the doorway. All at once, the air in his lungs was gone, and he couldn’t fucking breathe. His eyes went wide, and after a few seconds, Kris smiled, then kicked the door shut behind him, and crossed the room towards him. He held out his arms, and Joonmyun stumbled forward, into Kris’ chest, hands coming up to grip his shirt.

“You came to see me?”

“I—I—yeah, yeah, I did—”

“How are you?”

He was either completely oblivious to what Joonmyun was feeling, or – and Joonmyun was inclined to believe that this was far more likely – he was playing dumb, to piss Joonmyun off.

“I—I’m good. I’m fine. I’ve been… Sehun’s been keeping me busy.”

Kris hummed quietly, as he pulled away from Joonmyun, watching him closely. “Why are you here, Joonmyun?” A beat of silence, then two. “I had figured that you would stay in Sivalia. Your home.”

“I—” Joonmyun bowed his head. “I wanted to see you.” Kris didn’t react to that, his eyes considering Joonmyun. “You said,” he paused, sniffing quietly, running his fingers through his hair, agitated. “you said, before you left to go to Kazir, that I had to wait patiently. That I needed to learn how to be patient.” His eyes darted back to Kris’s.

“You’re right. I did say that.”

Joonmyun bit his lip, brow furrowing. “I waited for _two_ months. That’s so long, I was so patient—” He cut off, rubbing his hands across his face. “Kris, _please_.”

A moment of silence, and then Kris’ eyes went dark. A slow smile crept across his face, and he chuckled quietly, reaching towards Joonmyun to brush a stray hair out of his eyes. “What, princess? Are you going to ask, _politely_?”

Joonmyun blushed, looked away quickly. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “I want—I want—Kris, I want _you_ , please, please, I just—I want whatever you can give me, please, I’ll be as patient as you want me to, just… _please_.”

Kris hummed softly, then slid closer, arm sliding around Joonmyun’s waist. His free hand came up to hold his chin, gentle, and he leaned down, slowly. “You want me to kiss you?” Joonmyun nodded quickly, eyes wide and fragile and scared. Ah. He was afraid that Kris was going to turn him away, deny him, tell him _no_. He was lucky that Kris had no intention of doing anything of the sort, lucky that Kris had been just as _impatient_. “You want me to touch you?” Another quick nod, and Kris’ knuckles touched the underside of Joonmyun’s jaw. “Ask me.”

“Kris,” he paused, biting at his lower lip. “will you kiss me, please?”

Kris chuckled quietly, then leaned down, to press a gentle kiss to Joonmyun’s mouth. A beat of silence followed, and then he kissed him for real, hot and open-mouthed and wet and sloppy and dirty and everything that Joonmyun had been desperate for, everything that Joonmyun had wanted, ever since the first time. Joonmyun moaned into his mouth, hands coming up to grip his shirt again, tight enough to hurt his knuckles.

Joonmyun broke away for two seconds to breathe, and in that two seconds, Kris hauled him across the room, where he sat down on the couch, pulling Joonmyun halfway into his lap. “Mm, I forgot how responsive you were, brat.”

Joonmyun choked out another moan when Kris kissed him again, his mouth falling open easily. Kris chuckled softly, sucking gently on Joonmyun’s lower lip, before he licked into his mouth, gripping Joonmyun’s hair in one hand, free hand now resting on his neck.

When Joonmyun pulled away again, he was panting, saliva pooling on his lower lip, eyes wide, pupils dilated. “Do it again, please, please kiss me again.”

“Oh, princess.” He released Joonmyun’s hair, arm coming to rest on the back of the couch. “Look at you, you’re so beautiful.” Joonmyun whined, pouting at him. “Be patient for me, princess, you can do that, can’t you?” Joonmyun tugged on Kris’ shirt, shaking his head. “No?”

“ _Two months_ , Kris, I waited two fucking months, surely that’s patient enough, even for you.”

Kris smirked, and when he saw that, Joonmyun swallowed hard. He didn’t like that smirk, he didn’t like it at all. “You waited two months because you had to. You didn’t choose to wait for me. That wasn’t patience, brat.” Joonmyun whined again, and Kris smirked. “I’d make you wait two more months, if I thought you’d do it. But you’re such a brat; you’d never make it.”

And if there was one thing that Joonmyun couldn’t handle, it was someone telling him that he _couldn’t_ , that he wasn’t capable of something. An indignant fire lit up in his eyes, and he would have said something angry, something that he probably would have regretted, except that someone knocked on the door. The next thing he knew, Kris had pushed him away, and stood up, was halfway to the door before it opened.

The Queen was standing in the doorway. Kris inhaled slowly, then smiled. “Hello, Mother.”

“Kris.”

“I’m busy, Mother, what can I do for you?”

The Queen eyed him critically for a moment, gaze darting to Joonmyun for a split second. “Your fiancée will be here tomorrow, I hope you remember.”

Whatever Kris said next, Joonmyun didn’t hear. All he could hear was a rushing in his ears, heart pounding, blood roaring, panic locking his breath in his lungs. He didn’t _want_ to know what Kris had to say. He didn’t want to hear a damn word out of his mouth.

He had believed – he had been _stupid enough_ to believe that maybe, just maybe, Kris liked him. That maybe, just maybe, Kris wanted him, the way that he wanted Kris. That maybe, just fucking _maybe_ , Kris wanted to be with him.

He jumped when Kris touched a hand to his knee. Kris was kneeling by his feet, looking up at him, concern on his face. “What’s on your mind?”

“Take your hands off of me.”

Kris’ brow furrowed, but he pulled his hand away without a word. Joonmyun got to his feet, and walked back to the window, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

He had been so fucking _stupid_ , to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could have gone somewhere. That maybe, just maybe, he would actual have a relationship of some _substance_ in his life.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t say a word, jaw clenching furiously. He wasn’t going to cry. He was most certainly _not_ going to cry in front of Kris, he wasn’t going to lose it. He wasn’t going to let this fucking Prince know just how hurt he was.

“Princess—”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

Kris placed a hand on the small of his back, and Joonmyun turned quickly, knocking his hand away, eyes flashing. As soon as their gazes locked, the first tears fell, and Kris’ eyes softened immediately. “This is about what my mother said, isn’t it?”

“No.”

Kris eyed him for a moment, then folded his arms over his chest. “Yeah, it is. It’s about my fiancée?” Joonmyun held still for a few seconds; he could lie, but it wouldn’t do him any good. Kris would see right through it. He nodded slowly, eyes on the floor. “Hey, look at me.” Joonmyun shook his head quickly, tears now streaming down his face. “No, look at me.”

“Why, so you can fucking tell me that you—” He cut off with a sob. “I don’t want to hear what you have to fucking say.”

“Princess, I’m calling off my engagement. That’s what I told my mother.”

“Oh, fuck _you_.”

“Princess, I swear to you, on my life, I’m ending my engagement.”

“You _got engaged_ while I was gone, what’s going to stop you from doing it to me in the future?” Before Kris could respond, Joonmyun spoke again. “I’ve been in a lot of fucking relationships, Kris, and every single time, I end up getting hurt. I had _hoped_ that maybe this time would be different. I wanted to believe that you wanted to _be with me_ , because you fucking _liked_ me, but I guess I was just setting myself up to get my heart fucking broken.” His breath was coming quickly. “Fuck you, I’m going home.”

“Joonmyun.”

He went perfectly still, head rising so their gazes could meet. “ _What_?”

“I was engaged long before I met you. I had intended to call it off after that first night. And then the battle happened, and you were in Sivalia, and I had no idea if you still wanted me, so I didn’t do anything about it. And now that I know, I’m going to call it off.” Joonmyun waited with bated breath, before Kris spoke again. “I don’t want to be with her. I want to be with you. Do you believe me?”

Joonmyun’s heart was racing, breath still coming too quickly, bordering on panic. “I—”

“Joonmyun, don’t. Don’t do that, don’t shut down on me. At least tell me what’s on your mind.” Joonmyun shook his head quickly. “No?”

“You don’t fucking deserve to know.”

A moment passed between them, then Kris pulled Joonmyun against his chest, chin resting on top of his head. Joonmyun tensed, tried to shove him away, but after a few seconds, he went limp, sobbing into Kris’ chest. “Shh, Joonmyun, it’s okay. It’s okay to be upset.”

“Kris—” he tried to pull his head back, but Kris placed a hand on the back of his head, holding him in place. “I’m so—I’m so sorry—”

“Shh, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Come here.” He guided Joonmyun to the couch, and sat down, pulling Joonmyun into his lap. “Hey, hey, talk to me. Talk to me, princess.”

“I just—” He wrapped his arms around Kris’ neck, pressing his face into Kris’ chest. “Kris, you’re the first fucking person that I’ve ever… that I’ve ever _wanted_ like this, you’re the first person that I’ve ever wanted a _real_ relationship with, the ever person I’ve ever really wanted to be with, and I… I don’t want to get hurt, I don’t want you to _hurt_ me.” He choked out another sob. “I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of you not—I want you to want me just as much as I want you.”

“Oh, _Joonmyun_.” Kris kissed the top of his head. “Trust me, I do. I do want you, more than I think you know.”

“You’re the only person who’s ever been able to shut me up.”

Kris laughed softly, smoothing a hand over Joonmyun’s hair. “That, I don’t doubt for a second. My pretty little princess, my mouthy little brat.”

“Kiss me?” Kris chuckled, then tipped Joonmyun’s head back, to kiss him gently. It was sweet and chaste, and when he pulled back, Joonmyun tried to drag him back. “Please?”

“See, you’ve finally learned how to ask.” Kris kissed him once more, before he tucked Joonmyun’s head under his chin, hushing him when he whined. “My pretty brat.” Joonmyun huffed softly, but Kris could feel him smiling, could feel the sweet little grin that was pressed against his neck. “Joonmyun, baby.”

“Yeah?”

“You remember what I told you, on that first night? Before I let you kiss me the way that you wanted to? When you asked me, for the first time?”

Joonmyun hummed quietly, fingers dragging down Kris’ chest, coming to rest on his stomach, still over his shirt. He very desperately wanted to _touch_ the elder, but he knew – or, at the very least, had a very good idea of – what would happen if he tried. For now, he would be patient. For _now_ , he would play this stupid game., because he knew that it would get him what he wanted, in the end.

“You said that I—that I chafe under authority. Any and all authority.” Kris chuckled quietly when Joonmyun kissed his neck. “And I told you that I hate being in Sehun’s shadow.”

“You did indeed.”

Joonmyun knew that his mouth was probably the cause for a lot of his problems. He knew that he tended to make situations worse by opening it. He _knew_ that he was supposed to be patient and polite. But _gods_ , this was taking so long.

“I suppose you wouldn’t know what it’s like, would you?” Fuck. Fuck fucking _shit_ , he needed to stop, he _really_ needed to stop, he could see the glint of annoyance in Kris’ eyes, but it was always so _easy_. “You were the firstborn, you were always the favorite. You were always going to have the affection and the attention.”

He had thought Kris would have done something to make Joonmyun feel like a _child_. Honestly, he had been expected to be told to sit on the other end of the couch, where he couldn’t get his hands on Kris. He had _expected_ to be given a _time out_ , just like he had been when he was ten.

“Tell me, then. Tell me what it was like.”

That, Joonmyun should have anticipated. Kris was always so _mature_ , always such an _adult_ in these kinds of situations. After a few moments, Joonmyun exhaled quietly, then sat up straight, meeting Kris’ gaze. “I mean, obviously Sehun is older than me, he’s the… well, I was going to say that he’s the Crown Prince, but he’s the King now. But anyway, when he was born, it was always understood that he would take the throne. And because of that, he always got the attention – and the affection – of my parents.

“And because of _that_ , I _didn’t_ get that. I didn’t get the affection or the attention that he did. But I figured out, very quickly, that if I wanted their affection, I had to make my parents pay _attention_ to me.” He paused, running his fingers through Kris’ hair gently. “And as time went on, I figured out that the best way to do that was by opening my mouth and _talking_ , loudly, even when it wasn’t necessary. _Especially_ if it wasn’t necessary.”

Kris hummed softly, then his hands settled on Joonmyun’s hips, gentle. Always gentle. “And here I was, thinking that it was just because you were an asshole.” Joonmyun snickered quietly, then leaned down, to rest his head on Kris’ shoulder. “So, what I understand, is that if I pay attention to you, if _people_ pay attention to you, you’ll be polite?”

“Or something.” Joonmyun paused, smiling. “Why do you ask?”

“Because,” he paused, pushing Joonmyun back slightly. “I had a thought, now that we’ve been talking about my engagement.” Joonmyun’s brow furrowed. “We’ve already discussed that you don’t like to give up control, you don’t like authority.. And recently, I’ve found myself in need of a fiancé.”

That was when it clicked. “Wh—”

“How would you like to be a King?”

Joonmyun’s breath hitched. “I—really? Are you serious? Are you for real?”

Kris smiled at him, eyes overwhelmingly fond. After a few seconds, he released his grip on Joonmyun, to work a ring off of one of his fingers and held it up between them. “You see this?” Joonmyun nodded quickly. “You know what it is?”

“Elirian family ring. Luhan split my lip with his.”

“Give me your hand.” Joonmyun’s eyes went wide, but he obeyed, placed his hand in Kris’. Kris chuckled, then raised Joonmyun’s hand to his mouth, kissed his knuckles gently. “You know what this means, yes?” Joonmyun nodded quickly, his breath coming quickly, in soft little pants. “And if I put this on you, you know what you’re getting into?”

“Yeah. Yes, yeah, I do.”

“And do you _want_ that responsibility?”

Joonmyun blinked slowly, then exhaled. This was moving very quickly, and _gods_ , he could count how many times in his life that he hadn’t had a response, and this was one of them. “Yes. I want—I want to marry you. I want to be there for you, I want to take that responsibility for you, with you—” Kris chuckled again, then kissed Joonmyun’s knuckles one more time. When Joonmyun spoke again, his voice was quiet. “Is this a joke?”

“Adorable, that you think I have a sense of humor.” He leaned in, to press a kiss to Joonmyun’s mouth. As he did, he slid the ring onto Joonmyun’s finger, and Joonmyun made a soft noise against his mouth, sliding a hand into his hair. “Oh, princess, I do adore you.”

“Kris, I—can I—” he whined softly, kissing Kris again. When he spoke, it was little more than a whisper. “Can I give you mine?” When he pulled back, he could see the slightest shine of tears in Kris’ eyes. He smiled, then ducked down to kiss Kris once, squeezing his fingers gently. “Do you want me to?”

“Do you want to give it to me, princess?”

“Yes.” The answer was quick, honest, raw. “More than anything. I want you to be mine, just as much as I’m yours, please, can I please give it to you?”

Kris brought a hand up to cup Joonmyun’s jaw. “I would be honored to wear it.” Joonmyun blushed pink, as Kris’ fingers touched his mouth. He didn’t think for more than a second before he sucked Kris’ fingers into his mouth, teeth dragging along them gently. “Yeah, you like having your mouth full, don’t you?”

When he pulled his fingers free, Joonmyun wrapped his fingers around Kris’ wrist, holding his hand up so he could kiss the tips of his fingers. “Hey, Kris?”

“Yeah, princess.”

“I think I—” He frowned, as he slipped his ring off of his finger. “I think I might love you?” He was biting at his lower lip, gazing at Kris with worry in his eyes.

Kris held still for a few moments, then smiled. “I think I might love you, too, princess.”

Joonmyun laughed quietly, then ducked his head, toying with Kris’ fingers for a few moments, before he slid the ring into place, burying his head in Kris’ chest when he finished. Kris laughed, then wrapped his arms back around Joonmyun, holding him in place as he examined the ring on his finger. “It’s almost as pretty as you are.”

“You think so?”

“Oh, don’t play _humble_. You’re gorgeous, and you know it.” Joonmyun chuckled quietly. “Prettier than Sehun. That’s why you’re so spoiled, you know how to use your looks to get what you want.”

“I’m not _spoiled_.” He whined the words, pouting. “I’m not! I’m not spoiled, you’re so rude—”

“Princess, you are spoiled. You’re a spoiled, pampered little brat, and so help me, you’re going to stay that way. You know why?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“Because, princess,” he paused, taking Joonmyun’s hands in his. “now you’re _my_ spoiled, pampered little brat. Mine to spoil. Mine to pamper. Mine to take care of. We clear?”

“Yes.” Joonmyun kissed Kris gently, wriggling happily. “Can you please fuck me now?”

Kris snorted. “Oh, no, no no no. No, that won’t happen for a good long while.” That brought Joonmyun up short, and his mouth fell open. “Not until we’re married.”

“That’s _mean_.”

“That’s correct, princess. I am.” Joonmyun sighed quietly, but didn’t complain any further, though he did pout. “Kiss me.” Joonmyun did, sighing softly into Kris’ mouth. “My gorgeous little princess, aren’t you?”

“When’re we getting married? How long do I have to—it’s not going to be another two months, is it? I can’t wait another two months.” Kris chuckled quietly, then tugged Joonmyun closer, adjusting him so that he was straddling Kris’ thighs. “I—oh, _oh_ —”

“A month. No longer. You’re right, princess, I don’t think either of us can wait that long.” Joonmyun whined again, shifting closer to Kris, his cock pressed against Kris’ stomach. “Oh, poor baby, my poor little princess.” Joonmyun whined quietly. “Spoiled _brat_.”

“Kris—”

“Kiss me.” Joonmyun did, running his fingers through Kris’ hair gently, then kissed his cheek, then his jaw, before his mouth latched onto Kris’ neck. “My pretty little brat.” Joonmyun huffed out a laugh, then rolled his hips, a choked groan in his throat. “Mm, you’re so beautiful.”

“I— ‘m gonna—”

“Go on, then, brat.”

When Joonmyun’s climax hit him, he squeezed his eyes shut, burying his head in Kris’ shoulder, hugging him tight. He was trembling, in Kris’ arms, and Kris chuckled, then hugged him closer, hushing him. “Shh, princess, it’s okay. It’s alright.”

“Mm.” Joonmyun squirmed, so his cock wasn’t pressed into Kris’ body anymore. “Love you.”

Kris smiled, smoothed a hand over his hair. “I love you, too.” Joonmyun giggled quietly, mouthing at Kris’ neck gently. “My pretty little brat.”

“D’you want me to—” he reached down to palm at Kris’ crotch gently.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“But I want to.” Joonmyun looked at him in silence for a few moments. “Let me?”

“Go on, then. Whatever the brat wants.” Joonmyun smiled, triumphant, then slid to the floor, kneeling between Kris’ legs. “Spoiled little princess.”

***

It had been two months, and Joonmyun was getting agitated.

Correction: he’d been agitated since that first day. It had only gotten worse every day that he had been made to wait. Joonmyun was not used to having to _wait_ for things. Patience, until he’d met Kris, had not been a word in his vocabulary.

Kris’ mother had not been happy about the situation. She had gone out of her way to stop their engagement, their wedding, and that had been the largest hold up. And then Joonmyun had had to returned to Sivalia, for two weeks, to get things settled with Sehun. When he’d returned, Kris had been gone, had left for Eishta for a week.

“You look exhausted,” Kris said, smiling fondly at Joonmyun from the door. Joonmyun startled, turning quickly, then relaxed when their gazes met. “Are you nervous?”

“I—” he paused, considering. “No.” Kris raised an eyebrow. “I feel like I should be, but I’m not. I’m so ready to do this, I’ve _been_ ready to do this for a long time, and I—I want to marry you, so bad.” Kris smiled. “Are _you_?”

Kris hummed quietly, then nodded once. “I’ve never… I’ve never felt the way that I feel about you about anyone else. I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin that.”

“Kris—” Joonmyun cut off with a quiet inhale, then smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, brat.”

***

The ceremony had flown by. One minute, Joonmyun had been standing beside Kris, in the large temple just outside the palace, and the next – in what felt like a blink of an eye – Kris was leading him up the stairs of the palace and towards his – their – bedroom.

Before they reached the door, Kris swept Joonmyun into his arms, kicking the door open. Joonmyun grinned, then placed a hand on Kris’ jaw, tugging his head down to kiss him gently. “I love you. I love you, so much, more than anything.”

“And I love you, my darling princess.” Joonmyun hummed happily, yelping when Kris threw him onto the bed. “You sit there and look pretty, yeah?” Joonmyun shook his head quickly, reaching out to grab Kris by the front of his stupidly elaborate outfit, and yanked him closer, kissing him again. “I should have known. So impatient.”

“Two months. You promised, no longer than _one_ , and I had to wait _two_ , because of your mother, the least you could do is stop making me _wait_.” He tugged at the ties on the – gods, he didn’t even know what to call the pieces of this fucking outfit – and growled when he couldn’t get them open. “Take this _off_.”

Kris chuckled, then reached behind him, to unlace the outer part of his robes, slipping out of it quickly, before he tugged his shirt over his head, and crawled onto the bed beside Joonmyun. “Brat.” Joonmyun huffed quietly, but didn’t say anything, as Kris carefully, gently – always so very gentle – untied his outfit, pushing it off of his shoulders, then unbuttoned his shirt, and pushing it away. “Give me a kiss.” Joonmyun did just that, arms winding around Kris’ shoulders as he pushed himself upright, sliding into Kris’ lap. “My beautiful brat.”

Kris ran his fingers through Joonmyun’s hair, sliding the crown off of his head, and reaching over to set it on the table. He set his beside it, then kissed Joonmyun again. “Are you actually going to fuck me, now?”

Kris snickered quietly. “Yes, princess. I will.” He reached for Joonmyun’s waist, unbuttoned his pants slowly. “My pretty little princess, give me a kiss.” Joonmyun whined softly, mouth sealing over Kris’ again. His hands were gentle on Kris’ chest, mapping out the planes of his chest, stroking his skin softly. “Gorgeous.”

A few seconds passed in silence, then Joonmyun pushed Kris backwards, onto his elbows, then leaned down to put his mouth on Kris’ collarbone, hands pressing against his stomach.

“Pretty little princess.” Joonmyun hummed quietly, hands mapping a path down his chest, onto his stomach, then back up, to cradle Kris’ jaw. “My sweet little brat.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, princess.”

Joonmyun smiled at him, before he pressed one more kiss to Kris’ mouth. “Are you going to be mean to me?” Kris snorted, then reached up to grab his jaw, holding him in place as he kissed him again, biting at his lower lip. “Kris, I don’t want you to be _mean_ to me, not tonight, _please_ , I’ve waited so _long_ for this—”

“Sit up straight.” Joonmyun sighed quietly, then sat up, brows furrowed. He knew that it had been silly of him to expect that Kris was going to just _give him_ what he wanted; that stopped him from hoping. “You’re so pretty.”

“ _Kris_ , I—”

“Oh, princess, I _know_ , I know, you’re always so impatient.” Kris sat up fully, pressed a quick kiss to Joonmyun’s mouth. “You can be patient for me, can’t you?”

“ _Yes_ , fine, I’ll be _patient_ , but Kris—” He cut off with a soft whimper, pouting again. “Please don’t… please don’t be too mean?”

Kris hummed softly, then wrapped his arms around Joonmyun’s waist, holding him still. “Remember, princess, that I’ve been waiting for this just as long as you have.” He kissed Joonmyun again, prying his mouth open with his fingers. “I’ll be… mm, I’ll be nice.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t. I’ll be nic _er_. Nicer than normal. Yeah?”

“Mmkay.” Joonmyun got in one more quick kiss before Kris shuffled their positions, so Joonmyun was seated in the center of the mattress, gazing at Kris, who was sitting two feet away from him. “ _Kris_.”

“No. You stay there.” Joonmyun huffed quietly, but didn’t move, eyes locked on Kris. “You’re so pretty.” A moment passed in silence, then, “turn around, gorgeous.” Joonmyun turned slowly, a low whine in his throat. He sucked in a slow breath through his nose. “Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

Kris chuckled softly. “Do it, and I’ll show you.” After a few seconds, Joonmyun nodded, then closed his eyes, shoulders going tense as soon as he did. “Relax, princess.” Joonmyun whined softly, going silent when Kris’ fingers touched his shoulder, dragging down his back gently. “There, that’s good, you just keep quiet, okay?”

“No.”

“No?” Kris’ mouth touched Joonmyun’s shoulder gently, fingers still resting on his lower back, a gentle, constant pressure. “You’re not going to stay quiet for me?”

“No.” Joonmyun turned his head, and Kris chuckled, leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth. “You said that you wanted me polite and patient, not _quiet_.” Kris chuckled quietly, blowing gently on Joonmyun’s neck. “Please kiss me again.”

Kris smiled, then kissed Joonmyun gently. “You have a very good memory.” Joonmyun giggled quietly, as Kris’ mouth moved, to touch the back of his neck, teeth following a moment later. “Keep your eyes closed, princess.” Joonmyun nodded once, and Kris kissed his neck again, drawing a soft keen out of Joonmyun’s throat. “You like when I kiss you here.” He tapped Joonmyun’s neck with his finger, and Joonmyun nodded once. “Mm.”

He pressed another kiss to the skin, and Joonmyun whined softly, shuddering. “Kris—” He cut off with a whimper, as Kris’ arms wrapped around his waist, pushing his pants down with one hand, fingers brushing his cock gently. “Please, please, Kris, _please_ , I wanna—I’m gonna—” He sobbed furiously when Kris pulled his hand away. “ _No_.”

“Yes, princess.” The words were a gentle murmur, into his ear. “Patience. Be _patient_ for me, brat.” Joonmyun whined softly, and Kris bit down gently on his neck, sucking on his skin. “You’re such a pretty little princess for me.”

“Kris, _please_.”

“You hold still while I touch you, okay?” Joonmyun whimpered quietly, leaning back into Kris’ chest. “Oh, you’re _such_ a brat.”

“Kiss me.”

Kris chuckled, but obliged him, mouth sealing over Joonmyun’s easily. “You realize, I hope, that this isn’t going to make me go any _faster_.” Joonmyun huffed quietly. “My brat.”

“Kiss me again.”

When Kris did, his fingers slid into Joonmyun’s hair, anchoring Joonmyun’s head in place. “You want me to fuck you?” Joonmyun whined against Kris’ mouth. “Ah, ask me. Ask nicely.”

“Please? Please, Kris, please fuck me, pretty please?” Kris chuckled quietly, his answer obvious even without him saying anything. Joonmyun had _known_ that he was teasing, had _known_ that asking, that _begging_ , wouldn’t get him anywhere. He choked out a soft sob as Kris’ mouth returned to his neck, fingers still holding his hair in place. “You’re so _mean_ to me.”

“In all fairness, princess, you did know what you were getting into.” Joonmyun whined quietly, squirming as much as he could in Kris’ grip. When he went still, it was with a loud, indignant, annoyed huff, a pout on his lips. “You told me, when you came to Eliria, that you’d be… what was it again? You’d be as patient as I wanted you to be?”

“You’re so—” he cut off with another sob when Kris’ fingers returned to his cock, gentle and soft and _teasing_ , just like Kris was, all the fucking time—

“What am I, princess?”

“You’re being such a—”

He gasped when Kris pulled his fingers away, free hand yanking Joonmyun’s head back against Kris’ shoulder. “Such a _what_ , brat? Tell me.”

Joonmyun really wasn’t sure how he pulled it off.

All he knew was that, one moment, he was pretty effectively locked in Kris’ grasp, unable to do much other than sit there and whine, and the next, he had Kris pinned to the bed. In hindsight, Kris had probably let him do it, but in the moment, Joonmyun would take what he could get.

“I am your _husband_.”

“That much is true, princess.”

“ _Husbands_ aren’t supposed to make each other _cry_ , especially – _especially_ , Kris – not on their fucking wedding night.” And now that Joonmyun had opened his mouth, he wasn’t exactly planning on shutting up anytime soon, so before Kris could get a word in, before Kris could _argue_ , could use that fucking tone that made Joonmyun go quiet and docile, he spoke again. “I waited _four fucking months_ , and I know that you did too, so please, can we _please_ just have the fucking wedding night that we both deserve?”

***

When Kris woke up, Joonmyun had him pinned to the bed again, except this time, it was because he was sleeping – quite peacefully – on Kris’ chest. After a few seconds, Kris moved, one hand sliding into Joonmyun’s hair, scratching gently, other arm wrapping securely around his waist. Joonmyun’s breath hitched slightly, but he didn’t wake, merely pressed his face more firmly into Kris’ chest.

 _Do you_ ever _shut the fuck up?_

The answer, it seemed, was yes, but the maintaining that silence was a delicate process, apt to break at any moment. Proper motivation was important, yes, but Kris had found – very recently – that that motivation only went so far. That said, Joonmyun’s fury last night had probably been due mostly to the fact that he _had_ waited so long. Kris rather wondered what he would be like if they tried that particular experiment again in the future.

_Can you manage keeping your mouth shut while the_ adults _are talking?_

That had been petty, the wrong way to start off their relationship. Joonmyun really had resented him, for that comment in particular, and he was very right to. It had been a low blow, one that had hit Joonmyun right where it hurt him the most, right in the part of him that told him that he was, and would always be, less than his brother.

That wouldn’t be the case for much longer.

When the Queen of Eliria stepped down from the throne, it would come to Kris – and to Joonmyun, who was now tied irreversibly to the Iron Crown of Eliria.

_And you’re a spoiled brat, but here I am, talking to you._

Petulant, maybe. But now, now Joonmyun was his spoiled brat. He always would be, there was no changing that about him, but Kris wouldn’t have changed him if he could have. That was part of what he loved about Joonmyun, about his _husband_. Where he had once seen only a spoiled and pampered little _princess_ , now he saw ruthless determination, a man – a _Prince_ incapable of taking no for an answer when it came to what he wanted.

And yes, dealing with that would be a challenge in the future, Kris wasn’t stupid, he knew that much.

He also knew that they could handle it. They could handle _this_.

“What’re you thinking about?”

Joonmyun’s voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at him, smiling fondly. “You.”

“Me?” Kris nodded, as Joonmyun’s hands moved, to rest on either side of his head. “What about me?”

He wasn’t exactly _subtle_. They both knew that. “How lucky I am to have met you.” Joonmyun smiled, a soft blush rising on his cheeks. “How very happy I am, to have you here with me, to wake up with you sleeping on top of me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, princess.” Joonmyun hid his face in Kris’ chest, as Kris continued. “Joonmyun?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

A moment passed, then Joonmyun looked him in the eyes again, all traces of humor gone. “I love you, too.” He leaned down, to kiss Kris gently, and when he pulled back, he was smiling. “I’m so glad that you said those things to me, when we met.” Kris opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Joonmyun raised a hand, silencing him. “Let me finish.” Another pause, then Kris nodded. “First of all, you didn’t hurt me nearly as much as you clearly think you did. But second, even though you _did_ hurt me, you set me on a path that I wouldn’t have gotten to on my own. I don’t want to _be_ the asshole that I used to be, not anymore. I want to be better than that, for you, yes, but also for me.”

“Princess—”

“You’re atrociously stupid, has anyone ever told you that?”

It was the second time that Kris had heard that, but this time, Joonmyun’s voice was filled with nothing but playful affection and love. “I might have heard it somewhere before.”

Joonmyun smiled, then leaned down, to press another kiss to his mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my sweet little brat.”

***

“Tell me.”

A brief moment of silence, then, “Joonmyun and Kris have taken the Elirian throne, together. They were married four months ago. How are spies didn’t know that to report back, I don’t know, but rest assured, I will find out.” A split second, followed by, “Sehun and Luhan rule Sivalia. Kyungsoo remains in his position as the Crown Commander. Jongin – the shadow walker—”

“I know who he is.”

“—still serves the White Crown; still serves _Luhan_ , if we’re being specific.” This time, the silence that followed stretched on, tension building in the room. He was unwilling to share what came next. “Jongdae didn’t lie, he is the King of Eishta. He and Minseok both.” A low hum, a barely concealed edge of fury. “Baekhyun remains with the Dark Ravens. Chanyeol – Sehun’s servant – has chosen to remain in Eishta with him.”

Time was running out, and he knew it.

“Zitao—”

“Your _darling_.”

“I—yes. He and Yixing have been spotted in every city in Eishta, Eliria, and Sivalia at least once in the past six months. Two weeks ago, they disappeared into the mountains in Eliria; our scouts haven’t been able to track them down, but they’re not going to stop until they do.” He could practically feel each second settling like a weight on his shoulders.

“Surely the mountains aren’t _that_ horribly hard to traverse.”

“It’s… it’s not that, your Majesty. It’s… there’s something out there, there’s something in those mountains, something protecting them. Something that doesn’t want them found. It’s killed a dozen of our men since we started trying to find the temple that Yixing reportedly resides in.”

“Are you quite finished?”

“I—Jungguk, the one that used to serve Minseok, the one that Jiy—” he cut off, eyes going wide, but the slip garnered no reaction. A moment later, he continued. “the one that used to serve the Shadow Blades, no one has seen him around Eishta’s palace. We don’t know what’s happened to him.”

“Then find out.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“Yoongi.”

“Your Majesty?”

“If you fail me,” the King paused, as he turned, and Yoongi had to fight to keep from flinching. He hated having those eyes on him, narrow and emotionless and soulless and awful and utterly _terrifying_ , the irises so pale gray they were white to all but the keenest of eyes. They cut through everything that Yoongi had, every defense, every ounce of strength and confidence and _power_ , left him weak and helpless with nothing more than a glance. He had been so very lucky that Ji—that that particular feature hadn’t been retained by the King’s offspring. “you know what happens.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

The King hummed softly, fingertips tapping on the desk, a gentle rhythm, one that Yoongi had heard far too many times in his life. A few seconds passed, then Yoongi heard the hissing, and he bit his tongue, willing himself not to close his eyes, not to turn, just to hold still and wait. A slow, dangerous smile curled across the King’s face, and Yoongi bit down harder on his tongue, hard enough to draw blood. “Ah, my loves,” he paused; Yoongi could hear soft footsteps behind him, held perfectly still as the two newcomers crossed the room, both slowing as they passed him, fingertips brushing over his shoulders. “I did miss you.”

Yoongi exhaled quietly, not looking away from the King. Don’t move, don’t speak. The rules were simple, when the King’s _loves_ were in the room. “Li, Eo, you remember Yoongi, yes?” Their soft affirmations were drowned out by the sound of Yoongi’s heart pounding in his ears. He wanted to die, he wanted _out_ , anything to get away from this. “Yoongi, my loves are getting hungry.” Yoongi blinked once. “Find them someone to feed on, will you?” Another slow blink, then the King cocked his head to the side. “Out, then.”

Yoongi had never fled the office faster. As soon as he closed the door behind him, he exhaled quietly, relaxing back into the wall.

He had warned them that bringing the demons here wouldn’t end well. He had warned each and every one of the members of the Shadow Crown, and not one of them had taken his advice seriously. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true; one of them had, but his voice had never mattered to the rest of the Crown. But that was beside the point.

He didn’t know why no one else could read the betrayal curling around each of those women. All he knew was that when things went to shit, he would have to be the one to stop it.

“My Lord?”

“Not now.” He brushed past the young woman who had spoken, but she followed.

“My Lord, it’s about—” she cut off, voice dropping low and quiet when she spoke again. “it’s about the Crown Prince.”

Yoongi ground to a halt, eyes flashing as he turned to face her. “Say that again.” She didn’t say a word. “Tell me.”

“They were spotted leaving Sivalia, two days ago. Our spies lost them in hours.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched furiously. A dilemma. A very _serious_ dilemma.

But his choice was obvious. The Crown came first.

“Send Namjoon and his squadron. Bring them in.”

“And when they do, my Lord? Where shall they bring them?”

A choice. A decision, one that he didn’t want to be responsible for, one that he had never wanted to make – his Prince, his _friend_ , his _brother_ , or his King?

_It’s a choice between what makes us happy now, today, and what will make our entire country happy in the future._

His choice. His decision.

_And in Kazir, we always,_ always _put our country first, without hesitation._

His responsibility. He had taken this position, knowing full well that he would have to make hard choices and accept the consequences for those choices.

_You have a choice to make. You save him…_

Save them, save his brother and his best friend.

_or you do what your country wants you to do._

Do what his country wanted, what his King had dictated.

“To me. Bring them to me.”

“Of course, my Lord.”


End file.
